


A Case of Unknown Identity

by Helena_Hathaway



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Angst, Angst and Humor, Bandom Big Bang, Chatlogs, Chatting & Messaging, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Frerard, Funny, Happy Ending, High School AU, Internet, M/M, Online Relationship, Online Romance, Sexual Content, Swearing, Top!Gerard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 43,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1255759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helena_Hathaway/pseuds/Helena_Hathaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frerard High School AU. Frank is a teenager with only a few friends, one of whom is a charismatic guy who is just like Frank. He might even be falling for the guy, but the only problem is that he’s just a username on a website without a face or a name. The guy goes by 'Watchman' and he’s perfect in Frank’s eyes, he doesn’t even need to meet him to know he’s amazing.</p><p>Frank also deals with bullies which makes it hard for him to hold onto friends, but things start to become better after he befriends the antisocial kid Mikey, and realizes that Watchman might just go to his school. Watchman might also know a little more about Frank than he’s letting on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pansy and Watchman

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so seeing as there will be a lot of chat speech I’m going to be putting “Jersey-Watchman666” in **bold** and “That_Pansy_Misfit” will be _italicized_ , so they’ll be set up like the Lauren Myracle books (you know the ones “ttyl,” and others, they were really bad but they went crazy in like 2004) so that’s what’s happening in some of the odd looking paragraphs. Also since it’s chat speak I set aside grammar and spelling a bit.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a website and some ambiguous chipmunks.

Frank throws the backpack off and hops onto his computer, excitedly as always. This is always the best part of his day, and his days are usually pretty shitty but this makes him happy. It’s probably the only things that never fails to make him happy.  


He clicks the mouse a few times and opens up the page which he has bookmarked, and quickly he types in the password, bringing up the home screen of “Closetedteens.org” which is not the catchiest of names. It’s a chat group sort of website for teens who are closeted... pretty self-explanatory. 

When Frank had come out to his mother she hadn’t been at all upset with him or anything but she booked an appointment with a therapist to help him deal with the pressure that coming out would bring into his life. He had hated it. He hated it so much that he refused to go back after the second session. His mother decided anonymity was the best option then and the Therapist recommended the site, which Frank was extremely wary about but he gave it a go. It was popular among professionals because there was guidance with people who really knew their stuff, and you didn’t need to give out your name. 

At first Frank had hated that as well. It was stupid. Just a bunch of whiny little teenagers complaining about balancing their sexuality with their privileged little lives. It was stupid, and pointless. But then he met **Jersey-Watchman666** , or at least that’s his username. They’d met because they both lived in New Jersey. They became friends when they realized that they liked the same music. He’s a great person too. 

The only reason Frank ever goes on that site anymore is to talk to Watchman, which is what Frank calls him. Watchman calls him Pansy, on account of his username being **That_Pansy_Misfit** but Frank doesn’t mind. As long as he gets to talk to Watchman. He doesn’t even know Watchman’s name or how old he is or anything. That’s the glory of the anonymity. He can be friends with someone just like him, and never worry about being made fun of for having a dorky friend, or for being a ‘faggot’ because his bullies don’t even know he’s gay. They of course called him a fag anyway but Frank only ever came out to his mother and no one else.

Watchman is a dork though, biggest dork he could ever possibly imagine, but he’s so sweet. Frank always gets little tingles because he kind of flirts sometimes, and even though he’s sure Watchman doesn’t mean to, it’s so cute. Frank is sort of completely in love with Watchman, which is so cliché. How typical is it for him to have fallen for the guy whose name he doesn’t even know? 

At the very least he’s glad that Watchman is his age. The site is special in several respects, one being that you have to have a code given out by recommendation from a therapist so that there are no perverts or anything, most likely. The odds are not high, at least, that Watchman is a sixty year old gigolo.

When Frank logs in he sees that Watchman is already online. He always is when Frank gets home. He probably gets out of school earlier than Frank, because almost without fail Frank sees that little alert in the corner of his screen saying his friend is online.

**Jersey-Watchman666: Hey Pansssssaaaaay!**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: Whoa loo k who it is, never wouldhave guessed. ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: What’s that sposed to mean? U saying Im onlin;e 2 much**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: wHAT!?!?1? u think I’d ever say anythin like that? ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: awww don’t lie, u think i’m awesome. Cant say I blame ya**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: You got me. I worship u. Howd you guess? ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: I’m just clarvoyant**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: that’s not how u spel clairvoyant you nimrod. ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: not how I “spel” it you say?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: Oh fuck off, iwas tryng to be an ass and you’re bieing a little jerk and sassed me back. U Sass my ass. ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: that sounds so worng lol**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: ha woops. so how was hell... I meen school? ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: gggggggggggggggaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh**

**Jersey-Watchman666: u feel?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: I feel. ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: how bout u?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: same. Though a few more aaaaaaaaa’s. ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: Have homework? I got a shitton.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: me too. U think if I hide under my desk it will sopt excisting? ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: u can try. Take me wit u tho.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: alrigth come on, then ___

Frank rolls his eyes, smiling, and he takes the laptop off his desk and quickly climbs under it. He could easily not and say he did, but Watchman has a way of knowing things.

He climbs under the desk, and due to the fact that he’s a practically a midget at 5’4, he actually fits comfortably.

_That_Pansy_Misfit: Ok, expirrement starts now. how long do istay here? ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: atleast until th next winter Olympics, 4 valid results**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: *sigh* mmk ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: lol, is it working has ur hw brust into flames or somthin?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: dunno, maybe ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: well in the meantime u migth wanna do it jsut in case**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: Ugh I thogt the whole piont was to runway from my repsonobilitities ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: oomg look at what u just typed! priceless**

**Jersey-Watchman666: runway eh? U gonna own that catwalk?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: ffffffffuuck thats, omg. I said tities, don’t tell my mother! ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: secrets safe wif me bro. speaking od bros, mine just walked in + I’s gotta go**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: awwwwww :-( I hate u. ___

_That_Pansy_Misfit: and him._

_That_Pansy_Misfit: Tell him i hate him. ___

**Jersey-Watchman666: will do Pansy, ttfn!**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: u 2. ___

Frank frowns as he sees the little light go that signals Watchman’s online no longer. He turns and pulls himself out from under the desk, and strides over to his bed to delve into the riveting world of the coefficients of linear expansion. He constantly wonders if Watchman does actually like him back, the way Frank likes him. He’s always so excited to talk with Frank. They’ve been talking for almost eight months now without having met, or without knowing each other’s first names. It’s crazy! All Frank knows is that he’s got a brother, and he doesn’t know the brothers name.

“I’m a mess!” He mumbles as he flips through the book to the page he needs to work on. The wonderful thing about Frank's math class is that the teacher puts the answers on the board and lets students grade their own papers every morning then tell him their scores. Frank takes this as his opportunity to do literally nothing at all besides write a bunch of random numbers on the paper. What this means though it’s that he is always desperately out of practice when it comes to taking tests, so he actually has to study today. 

The rest of the day passes in a blur as Frank crams his head full of pointless numbers that he really couldn’t care less about, and he almost falls asleep at his desk with his notebook, until he realizes how thoroughly uncomfortable that would be, and absently walks over to his bed and crashes.

He wakes up the next morning with a nasty case of bedhead so he has to take a prolonged shower to try and get some of the knots out, before he decides he honestly doesn’t care, and just settles with it. It looks a bit like sex hair, he thinks, when he’s checking his face in the mirror.

Oh well though, he’ll be late for school if he tries to tend to it anymore.

He won’t actually be late for school, because he’ll get there on time, but these junior boys, in the grade ahead of him, beat him up every day before class starts so that he’s late anyway.

There are three of them, but to tell you the truth he doesn’t actually know their names. He calls them Alvin, Simon and Theodore in his head, because why not? Alvin is the ring leader of course, Simon is the guy who pitches in and laughs and lastly there’s Theodore who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else than with the other two. He kicks Frank a few times because he’s supposed to but only after his friends coax him into doing it. Some day’s Theodore doesn’t hit him at all. Frank likes to think he’s got a soul buried in there somewhere. He should probably learn their names.

Frank sets off for school. It’s not too far a walk from his house and the buses smell like Goldfish and Axe body spray anyway, so he doesn’t mind walking. The worst thing was one time when someone axe bombed his bus, this was right before he stopped riding it, and it was like hell, everyone reeked of the shit for like a day and a half. Why do people do stuff like that? He doesn’t know, he just hates it.

Frank walks swiftly as he nears the murky brown building and grudgingly walks through the doors at the front. The school smells almost as bad as the bus, but it’s generally body odor and burnt food, because the kitchen doesn’t know the difference between Celsius and Fahrenheit so they just burn everything. The last time Frank actually saw something edible that they prepared, was the one time when the stoves broke. That’s the reason why Frank brings his lunch.

He walks down the hall as other students are walking around him every which way until he sees his locker, and ducks under people’s elbows to get to it. There are a few advantages to being short, and one of them is definitely crowd sneaking.

He maneuvers himself through conversations and what not until he stands in front of his little locker. Abysmally small, more like it. The only plus to having lockers this small is that no one can be shoved inside of them. You couldn’t even get Frank inside one of these things so that’s how you know it’s small.

“Hey little twerp,” Alvin says.

“Hey guys, how are you,” Frank replies not turning to look at them.

A fist slams into his ear knocking him backward and he turns to look at them. There’s only two right now.

“Where’s the other guy?” Frank asks.

“Why do you care?”

“No reason, I just wasn’t aware you came in twos.”

“Listen up, twat-breath-“ Alvin starts, but Frank disappears easily into a crowd of people as they pass by so he doesn’t ever get to know what he was supposed to listen to. And what the hell kind of nickname is twat-breath? How do you breathe of twats?

He doesn’t care he just walks down the hall and into his math class, completely not ready for the end of trimester test. 

It’s almost second tri, today is the last day, because it’s Friday which means soon he’ll have new electives. That means three different classes which should be exciting. Frank currently has gym, which will be wonderful to say goodbye to. Soon it’ll be Jazz Band, Fundamentals of Art, and Home Economics. He still has French though, blagh. 

Frank’s taken French for a year and a half now and yet the only sentence he can actually say is ‘vivre longtemps et prospérer’ which means ‘live long and prosper’ because Frank is a gigantic nerd.

The day progresses as all days do which is essentially just a lot of boredom that is hard to survive without wanting to rip your ears off. After eight hours of hell though, it’s finally the weekend which is always better than the week because you don’t need to anything.

Frank’s weekend will consist of sitting in his room playing guitar and hopefully conversing with his enigmatic cyber friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first few chapters are mainly about Frank and you’ll understand why as you read, but they later start becoming about Gerard too, so hang tight.  
> This work is also on Mibba: http://www.mibba.com/Stories/Read/550435/A-Case-of-Unknown-Identity/


	2. Weekend at Frankies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frank is obsessed with poptarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just found this and I thought it was appropriate for this chapter, and it's hilarious:
> 
> http://youtu.be/MLGoP46QtxU

“Saturday Hallelujah!” Frank mumbles into his pillow in the early morning. He takes the opportunity the weekend is granting him to fall back asleep where he wakes up a few hours later, almost time for lunch.

“Ugh,” he groans and pulls himself up, not really wanting to be awake. but knowing he’s probably not getting back to sleep anytime soon. 

He pulls on socks from next to his bed, hoping they’re clean, and sweatpants so that he can leave his room in more than just boxers. It’s not like he really cares but there is something kind of weird about a sixteen year old kid walking around his house in underwear for twelve hours. As it’s a Saturday, his mom is likely out at the grocery store like she always is on Saturdays. She gets the week’s groceries on Saturdays and then miscellaneous stuff whenever it’s needed which basically means poptarts Sunday through Monday because Frank breathes the little pastries the way that a fish inhales water.

He grabs his laptop from the desk and assumes a very unflattering position in bed, where he’s essentially lying down with the warm bottom of the computer on his chest, heating up his cold, cold heart.

Out of instinct he checks ClosetedTeens to see that Watchman is not online right now but he hadn’t really expected him to be, considering they were up past midnight talking. It’s alarming how many things the two of them are able to talk about. They talk about annoying people in their lives, music, comics... really, just about anything, and it’s easy. Watchman is easy to talk to.

He hears a car pull up into the driveway outside, and sees that his mom is back already, so he hops down the stairs quickly, anxious to get some food into his system before he starts the thoroughly unexciting day ahead of him. 

“Morning Frank,” she says. Frank’s mom is a nice lady, kind of stern looking but nice all the same. She’s really not that old but she’s got a few gray hairs from stress.

“Morning,” he replies taking one of the bags from her to help her sort the groceries out. After a few minutes he finishes, and makes himself a sandwich lazily.

“Any plans for today?”

“Um well if you call playing Sims for twelve hours ‘plans’ then I’m completely booked. Why?”

She shrugs, “No reason. Just thought you might try leaving the house for recreational purposes, rather than just for school.”

“Ah, see the problem in that lies with the fact that I don’t want to. Also it’s cold.”  
“It’s not that cold,” she responds.

“It’s cold enough for it to snow, therefore I will not walk outside in it,” he says pointing out the window, where it is indeed snowing. That’s what happens in November, it snows.

“Fine, maybe not while it’s snowing, but you could go out later.”

“Go where?” Frank asks.

“You have friends, wouldn’t they like to hang out?”

Frank frowns, “I guess I can see if Alex and Jack are busy.” 

He doesn’t really intend to ask them, and come to think of it, Frank’s never seen them more than once or twice outside of campus, but his mom prefers a vague maybe rather than a blunt no, and therefor accepts his response.

Frank wasn’t kidding though. He’s got a whole day ahead of him consisting of removing ladders from swimming pools so that the little avatars swim forever until they die. Frank’s a bit of a sadist when it comes to playing god over a bunch of Sims, but it’s better to let it out when the people can’t really object. Plus it’s funny watching them drown because they’re incapable of climbing out of a three foot deep crater.

When he walks upstairs though he sees that Watchman is online now so he decides he’d rather talk with him right now.

**Jersey-Watchman666: hhhheeeeeeey! Happy weekned!**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: and to u as well. doin anything exciting?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: nope, someone got gruonded 4 faling his geo test**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: ur grounded but alowed a computer?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: I wouldnt say 'allowed' per se**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: jeeeez Watchman ur just going to get eevn more grounded._

**Jersey-Watchman666: yah but talking 2 u is more important than rules**

Frank blushes furiously at that last sentence and is thankful that Watchman can’t see his face right now, because he probably looks like a tomato with a side of ketchup.

_That_Pansy_Misfit: ok then...?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: ah modesty. ur so silly when u think ur not as awsome as u ar.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: well u haven;t met me or u wouldnt say that_

**Jersey-Watchman666: the same culd be set on thsi end.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: well but I never made any suggtesions that I thout u were awesome._

**Jersey-Watchman666: huh! How rude :-P**

**Jersey-Watchman666: bitch**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: jk stupid_

**Jersey-Watchman666: well duh, there’s no denying my perceftion.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: oh wow, ur nice arn’t u. isn’t that whole modesty conceept a bitch?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: I NEVRE CLAIMED TO BE MODEST**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: wooooooooooow, makse me wonder y i stil chat with u_

**Jersey-Watchman666: OKay we just went over this. No denying that I’m perf and your barf**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: if u were goin for rhyme that din’t work_

**Jersey-Watchman666: nothing rhyms with perf asshole! Unless ur a goddamn smurf**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: oh god u caught me! I’m six inches tall and blue_

**Jersey-Watchman666: ah but the real qeustion is: is ur butt blue?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: I’m not asnwering quextions about the state of my butt_

They go on to talk about the impracticalities of living in the Smurf village for several minutes and that conversation later steers to Neil Patrick Harris, because of the Smurf movie, which leads off on another tangent and another, so that by the time that Frank realizes he forgot to play Sims, it’s almost six.

_That_Pansy_Misfit: aw shit man, I gotta go eat_

**Jersey-Watchman666: whaa?**

**Jersey-Watchman666: dude I thought it was like 2**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: same. Catch u later. Maybe not 2mrw cuz I gotta go to my dads :-/ but, yeah, whenever_

**Jersey-Watchman666: alright toodles!**

Frank had almost forgotten he was supposed to be at his dad’s house, in literally less than half an hour, so he hurriedly packs a duffle bag, making sure to grab his computer of course, then leaps down the stairs to get a quick dinner before his dad comes to pick him up.

He doesn’t mind staying at his dads, his mom and his dad trade off every now and again. Generally he’s with his mom two weeks for every week he’s with his dad, because his dad has longer hours. The only thing that’s different about his dad’s house is that his room isn’t as personalized, with fewer band posters and less assorted filth littering the floor. 

His dad’s also not aware of Frank’s sexuality, not necessarily because he won’t accept Frank, but because it’s just not a fun thing to say. Telling his mom was hard enough as it was, because even though you know they’ll accept you it’s kind of weird. It’s like telling someone that something they thought was true their whole life is actually just bullshit. Frank will tell him someday but he’s just putting it off because he’s kind of lazy.

His dad honks when he’s outside the house, so Frank kisses his mother on the cheek before walking slowly out to the small blue Toyota corolla. It’s a very feminine car. It’s a feminine, old lady car, but it’s his dad’s car. Well it’s his company car so Frank presumes his dad didn’t actually get to pick it out, but it’s still really girly.

He says a generic greeting, and then buckles the seatbelt whilst wrapping his arms around his legs, and knees like a little kid. It’s his thinking stance. For some reason he’s able to remember details and everything better when he’s curled up like a ball. All he can think about is the mysterious boy on the internet who makes hours zoom past. His dad tries to chit-chat, but all he gets in response are little mumbles, and they’re at the house a few minutes later anyway. 

His dad’s house is a lot closer to the school than his mom’s. It’s literally across the soccer field from school. His mom lives on the other side of the school so he never passes by his dad’s house, but when you think about it, it’s awfully inconvenient to walk across town to his moms when he can just walk across the field to his dads. 

There’s several houses here, some a little more so to the left of the field which means they’re adjacent to the street his dad’s house is on, but they’re further from the school. During the summer, spring and autumn, you can never use the field to walk across to your house because there’s soccer and football practice going on, so you have to walk around. During the winter you probably shouldn’t use the field because the snow mounds are literally bigger than Frank, but kids do it anyway. It probably doesn’t cut any time or distance because you get stuck in the snow which is practically quick sand, but mentally it feels like less of a walk. He’s never paid any attention to who else lives right next to the school, but he’s sure there’s quite a few students.

The sun is starting to set earlier with the winter season, so there’s only a little light by the time he steps through the front door and throws his bag into his room. His dad’s house is only two stories, without a basement and Frank’s room is on the main floor, while there’s a bedroom, and an office space upstairs, but not much else. The house is smaller, but neater than at his moms, with fewer signs that a teenage boy cohabits the space. It’s actually really welcoming though. The front opens up with the staircase right in front of you, and the rest is relatively an open layout with the living room to the right, kitchen to the left, and Franks’ bedroom, technically occupying the space that’s under the stairs but no worries, it’s bigger than Harry Potter’s room.

“I’m going to just go to my room, if that’s alright,” Frank says.

“Sure, have you eaten?”

“Yep, I’m good. Unless you have poptarts, than I’m starving.”

He rolls his eyes and nods. Score!

He goes to his room after getting the poptart but the Wi-Fi is down. He remembers his dad saying something about that in the car, but he wasn’t really listening, so he just huffs and sighs. Now would be a great time to write that English essay... or just go back to the living room and watch cartoons.

He decides on the latter.

The Wi-Fi is still down Sunday, making Frank realize it may be a grievously dull week, so he goes to bed early, not necessarily looking forward to school tomorrow, but less against the idea now that he has some new classes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already written a few chapters ahead but unless I get feedback in the comments on at least one of these chapters than I'm not going to finish this story. Just my way of saying: "I won't write if you're not going to read and review."


	3. Meeting Mikey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I, personally, seem to be in love with Brendon Urie, and Frank rather enjoys Brendon's face too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For optimal reading you should dim the lights in the room whilst displaying the most thoroughly unattractive flat-face you can possible make. Why? Because it would look fucking hilarious, that's why.

Monday morning comes and with it comes a boring period of Math right at the beginning followed by Art. Or rather fundamentals of art, which if Frank’s right in thinking, means looking at other peoples art most of the time or learning other peoples techniques. Not fun, but still better than gym. Unless you factor in the art teacher Mr. Katzenmeyer.

“Alright class I’m giving you assigned seats,” Mr. Katzenmeyer says. There are several horror stories about the man that is Mr. Katzenmeyer passed through students over the years. He’s in his fifties or so, and incredibly tall, upwards of 6’5, with little to no body fat anywhere, but absolutely no muscle at the same time. Every single one of his hairs is gray, and he has dark framed glasses, but what stands out most is his deep slow voice. He’s like a freaking William Shatner, because it takes him about five minutes to say three words. He’s also completely narcissistic and thinks of his art skills as a parallel to Van Gogh or something. 

Frank groans at the idea of assigned seats, he doesn’t know anyone in this room at all. He only knows like five people in this school! He’s never been very good with remembering names. Such as is the case with the fact that he gets tormented every morning by the same three people, and yet, he doesn’t know who they are.

Mr. Katzenmeyer starts rambling off names, but yells at anyone who tries to go to their seat before he finishes, saying, “you’ll wait until I’m done, then you can move.”

He goes through the entire list and Frank starts to wonder if he’d been forgotten, but at last his name is called in the back corner of the room. 

There’s four seats at each table so Frank has to now awkwardly ignore three different people for the rest of the trimester which should be heaps of fun.

He meanders over to his spot where one of the others has already sat down. His name is Patrick, and all that Frank knows about him is that he used to be kind of chubby but lost a lot of weight sometime between eighth and ninth grade. Now he’s incredibly attractive, with bleach blonde hair and a fedora. 

The other two boys that sit at Frank’s table he’s not familiar with. The one across from him, seated next to Patrick, plays soccer but that’s about all Frank knows. The guy has a lot of mascara, so he’s practically a raccoon. His pants are also a little too tight so they leave very little to the imagination but he’s good looking so Frank doesn’t protest. His hair is dark and his skin is slightly too but not overly so.

The one who sits directly next to Frank is kind of a stalky, willowy built boy, with light brown hair and glasses falling of the end of his nose. 

Patrick seems to know the mascara guy already and they start talking quickly, leaving Frank to sit awkwardly next to the toothpick.

“Hi, I’m Mikey,” the wiry boy says. Well, ‘Mikey’ is better than ‘toothpick’ at least.

“Frank,” he replies, barely looking at him.

“So uh... this isn’t awkward,” Mikey replies looking down at his hands which are mingled together and sweating. He’s got a very tremulous, soft-spoken voice like he’s talking with the voice of a small bird. Frank’s is deeper and orotund. 

“Sorry I’m not trying to be like-,“ Frank shrugs when he can’t think of a word to describe his personality.

“Antisocial. Antisocial is the word you’re looking for.”

“Ah, thanks,” Frank replies, feeling like an absolute idiot. Why is this so weird? He looks Mikey over a few times and realizes he has English with him, but he’s never talked to him before, and he looks familiar in another way, but he doesn’t know just how.

“We have English together, right?” Frank asks trying to be less of a dolt then he’s coming off to be, but feeling very stupid at the attempt anyway.

“Uh, yeah. You don’t need to worry about being antisocial, I am too.”

“Well that’s nice isn’t it,” Frank says, “should make for some rousing chatter.” 

Mikey nods and looks away from him to the front of the room where Mr. Katzenmeyer has started up on a lecture about lines.

Really exciting. Lines. The different types of straight lines to be more specific. There’s horizontal straight lines, and diagonal straight lines, and oh god, Frank wants to rip his leg off just for something to do.

“I never knew lines could be so interesting,” Frank says sarcastically, more to himself than anyone else, but the other three laugh which makes him blush furiously for some reason. Maybe it’s because they’re all kind of cute, especially Patrick, but he’s got to pull his head from the gutter here. 

Mr. Katzenmeyer proceeds to tell them how to correctly make a straight line, which is just as riveting as you would think. 

“Alright class, I’m going to hand out papers and you’re assignment is to draw any picture you want but it has to be made out of straight lines and only straight lines. You’ll only be graded if you use the technique I showed you.”

“That technique is called using a ruler,” Patrick says exasperatedly. Frank realizes he doesn’t know the other guy’s name, the one with the eye liner so he pays close attention to his and Patrick’s conversation to try and pick it up so he doesn’t seem rude.

A stack of papers is thrown carelessly on the table followed by a bunch of rulers which Frank grabs. He starts making the entirely too interesting drawing. They need to make some picture or whatever using only straight lines, but that is really debilitating when you think of how many things have curved lines, so Frank decides to draw the Black Flag logo. Pretty basic, it’s just a bunch of rectangles.

“Oh god, I fucked up!” Mikey says after he accidentally draws a horrendous excuse of a line, or in other words, a crooked line.

“That line is about as straight as I am,” Frank jokes, and then turns ghostly pale, “I’m just kidding of course.”

He feels so stupid after that, even though the other three laugh at his joke and brush it off easily. They continue with their work but Frank just feels mortified at how easily he said that. He practically came out of the closet with a fucking joke!

It takes a few minutes but finally Patrick says the other guy’s name in passing. Pete. Now he knows what to call him without looking like a moron. Pete. Like the boy who had a gigantic invisible dragon. 

‘Why do you know that Frank?’ He asks himself.

Frank finishes quickly and decides to spend the rest of the time mindlessly staring off blankly at nothing while nonchalantly eavesdropping on the people around him.

Some of the gems he overhears include: 

“No seriously, it wouldn’t go down so she left my house and told me not to call her.” – From greasy haired teenager number one.

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me! I have a right to know that he’s got a shrine to George Takei in his room.” – From the bottle blonde trollop near the front.

“You shouldn’t insult someone’s favorite Pokémon man, that’s just asking for trouble.” – From greasy haired teenager number two.

“Why would anyone think it’s a good idea to name their child Dick?” – From someone who seems to have very good grasp on life, because that is an excellent question. 

Frank almost laughs out loud to the last one, but contains himself and is alarmed when the bell rings a minute later. He grabs his stuff and walks to his next class where he realizes he’s following Mikey into the Home Ec. Room. There’s two Home Ec. Rooms, the sewing room, and the kitchens but they’re in the kitchen for this class as the course subtitle is ‘Cooking for Everyone’.

It’s not like he really wanted to take Home Ec. It was just one of the electives and he preferred Home Ec. over some of the other stuff, like Binary basics which is exactly what it sounds like. Learning Binary code. 

‘0100001001101111011101110010000001110100011010010110010101110011001000000110000101110010011001010010000001100011011011110110111101101100,’ No thank you!

Frank walks in to see the teacher, a rather nice lady, in her late forties with short brown hair named Mrs. Bearinger. She’s standing near the front, with a pile of papers on the counter in front of her. On the board, behind the demonstration kitchen, in her messy scrawl she’s written the words ‘Pick your own seats. Choose wisely because they’re yours for three months.’

Frank frowns. Where does he sit? Mikey’s standing about a foot away from him looking just as concerned by the notice as him. There are a few other kids already in the room, dispersed sporadically.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit next to you so that I don’t feel like a complete loner?” Mikey asks, catching Frank off guard. Who would ever want to willingly sit next to him?

“Um sure. You know I don’t have any friend’s right? Or I mean, I have, like, two,” Frank asks worried that Mikey thinks he’s someone else.

“Kind of why I asked, man.”

Frank shrugs, “fair point.”

The two walk to the second table, which most people don’t know secretly has the good utensils. All the other ones have crappy supplies, but Mikey was told by his brother that kitchen two is the best for this very reason, and so repeats the information now. 

The rest of the class piles in after a few more minutes and two guys, who look not to know each other, awkwardly sit at their table.

“Hey I’m Brendon,” says an astonishingly hansom fellow. He’s jaw dropping attractive, vaguely mixed race, with dark brown hair and a narrow face.

The other is okay, he’s got bitchin’ hair that’s for sure. He has one eye-catching head of hair. Frizzy doesn’t begin to describe it. You could get stuck in his afro if you weren’t careful enough.

“Ray,” the ‘fro guy says. 

Frank introduces himself and then pretends to be absorbed in his book which he isn’t actually all that into, he just hates small talk.

As it turns out though Mikey’s actually really nice and funny, so even though Frank tries to pretend he doesn’t care or that he’s not paying attention he finds himself wrapped in conversation with the boy anyway. Mikey likes a lot of the same stuff as Frank, like music, and this then prompts Ray and Brendon to chip in with their favorite bands. Mikey really does remind Frank of someone he just doesn’t know who quite yet.

Frank has a few friends, not many but he does have some. They’re the kind of friends who all sit next to each other at lunch and casually talk about things but never really see each other outside of school. Mostly they talk about school or pop culture or whatever is interesting that day, Frank is just glad he doesn’t have to eat alone. Mikey is different though, he actually seems like the kind of person you would want to hang out with. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed but he’s loveable all the same. Still he probably smarter, than Frank, who’s expertise does not lie in any school subject, but rather in useless trivia knowledge.

You know how there are some people who you watch while jeopardy is on the TV just to see their reactions to the questions, and then there are some people who have a vacant expression during the whole program? Frank is the kind of person you watch, because he’s keen on strategizing things like that, and knows way too much about things that he shouldn’t know about. When is the information ever going to be useful that more people are killed by donkeys then plane crashes annually? Then again who honestly has to square binomials or use quadratic equations outside of school?

By the end of the hour Frank is almost reluctant to leave because he actually quite likes Mikey and the other two seem pretty cool too. He pretends this isn’t the case of course and heads off to science.

Lunch is soon afterward and he finds his table mates at their usual spot. His friends or lunch buddies or whatever you want to call them, consist of Alex, Jack, Rian and Zack, so let the record show that Frank is actually capable of remembering people’s names, he just doesn’t try. Alex and Jack are the kind of people where you just know they’re gay for each other, but they just shake it off like it’s no big deal. Skinny love is what it’s called, loving each other irrevocably but being too shy to say it, yet still displaying it to the world. Let’s just put it this way, if one of them had been born a girl, they’d have gotten into each other’s pants years ago.

“Hey, uh, I keep asking this but can I sit next you?” It’s Mikey. Who’d have guessed? 

Frank is at the end of the table with an empty seat next to him, so he just shrugs and lets Mikey sit down. 

“Sorry, it’s just that my brother doesn’t like it when I sit next to him and his friends.”

“Nah man, I don’t care. Are you too lame to sit with him?”

“Actually he hates his friends. Like really hates them. He just doesn’t want me to get picked on by them.”

“Why does he still hang out with them then?” Frank asks as if this is obvious, because it is.

Mikey shrugs, “Cred probably.”

Ah yes, credibility, one of the stupidest concepts to ever grace this earth. No one gives a flying fuck whether you have anything interesting to say or add to life if you don’t have credibility. It’s also true that no one gives a flying fuck whether you have anything interesting to say or add to life if you do have credibility either, they just respect you enough not to plow you over. Frank has very little credibility, and he likes it that way. At least he’s not being judged for the wrong reasons. When people see Frank they see Frank, they don’t see some marble statue that’s been clumsily put over the real persons head.

“That’s such a Neanderthal move, no offense. Why would you ever force yourself to hang out with people you don’t like just to get further?”

“Um, no offense taken. He’s my brother, I think he’s dumb either way. I think it’s more of a survival instinct, you know? Kill or be killed.”

“Be miserable or be miserable? What a tough decision,” Frank says, a little condescendingly, but he doesn’t mean to be rude, he just is sometimes.

“I don’t know. I don’t really care. It’s his life,” Mikey replies with a shrug. 

“Yeah I guess,” Frank says and tries to steer the conversation another way, “so do you have any other new classes? Besides Art and Home Ec. I mean?”

Mikey smiles, a little excitedly, “yeah. I’ve got Jazz band.”

“Oh me too! I have it during second period every other day,” Frank says, and they start into a conversation about music once again because they have that class together as well. Mikey plays the bass apparently, and Frank the guitar, so they have a lot of similar ideas and what not concerning the topic.

By the time lunch is over Frank feels like he might be Mikey’s... “Friend.” That’s a pretty fucking huge honor to be dished out by Frank Iero, but Mikey doesn’t exactly know that. He’s cool though. Not in a traditional way, more in a nerdy way. A familiar Way. **(Authors note: pun intended).**

He walks off to fourth than fifth period, than English, which is his last period of the day, and gratefully sits next to Mikey.

Tuesday is an almost entirely different schedule then yesterday had been. He still has English and Study Hall the same periods but those are the only two that stay the same with every day. He has History then Jazz Band with Mikey then French. He still hates French with a passion.

By the end of the week, Frank’s been beaten up a grand total of three times which is really impressive for him, and had six conversations with Watchman, after Wi-Fi was restored on Tuesday. Most of all, the biggest thing to happen is that he’s made about double the number of friends he’d had earlier, including Mikey. He also makes a determined effort to see if either Patrick or Brendon are gay because they are way too attractive for their own good.

Jazz Band turned out to be the most fun he’d ever had. Mikey and he get along really well and complement each other musically and so does that Ray guy, who Frank has to refrain from calling “the afro man” a few times.

Overall it’s shaping up to be a pretty good tri.


	4. Alvin, Simon and Theodore: A Defenestration Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watchman learns a new word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews! This is the last chapter where Frank is the sole main character, so you will be investing in Gerard soon too.

The Weekend after that first week of the tri isn’t all that exciting. The Wi-Fi is thankfully restored still after it had been on Tuesday so he only lives a few days in the dark. He and Watchman have a long conversation where they simultaneously watch a movie together. The movie just so happens to be Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, and they give each other their input during the whole movie. Admittedly they do stop to watch the “They’re taking the Hobbits To Isengard” video when that time arises because that’s just video editing at its best.

Eventually the come up to the beautiful monologue given by Sam near the end and have an odd conversation following it.

**Jersey-Watchman666: Shit is it sstupid that this fucking scenbe makes me cry everytime?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: Dude, me too. I memorizred it, seeen it so damn much._

**Jersey-Watchman666: it’s like in the great stories mr. Frodo! godammit u fucker, thsoe stories were beautfiul**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: I dont think thats in the script_

**Jersey-Watchman666: screw the script. Throw the whloe script out de window, my verson is better.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: u wanna defenestrate the script?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: defene-what? That sounds dirty**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: it’s my fav word. means to throw someone or something out the window_

**Jersey-Watchman666: no way in hell is that a real word. I’m googling it.**

**Jersey-Watchman666: hold on, googling it. Just a sec**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: it’s a real word i promise_

**Jersey-Watchman666: SHIT MAN THAT’S A REAL WORD**

**Jersey-Watchman666: that’s fucking beautiful. that is. poetry**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: i told ya_

**Jersey-Watchman666: no but seriusly think about it. somewhere in some distent fram of past, some guy was siting in his chaiir doing hatever and said “u know what we really need is a word for throwng shit out the window”**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: thats a beautiful picture_

**Jersey-Watchman666: oh shit we missed the whole scene tlking abut defenestration**

Other than that lively experience Frank had nothing else all that exciting happen. He walks to school, from his mom’s house on Monday morning, after being exchanged once again over the weekend.

Alvin, Simon and Theodore are waiting for him near the school entrance, Theodore’s lounging about in a self-made snow armchair looking disinterested, while Alvin and Simon look ready to beat him up.

“Hey guys? What’s new? Did you steal any candy from babies? Tell a kid Santa isn’t real? Piss in the sandbox?” Frank asks sardonically. Theodore laughs behind him and doesn’t make a move to get up but Alvin and Simon look pretty pissed off.

Theodore kind of just watches impatiently and a little guiltily as his friends punch the poor kid in the nose. He’s never liked seeing the kid get hurt or anything, he actually hates it. His friends like to pick on small kids though, which that kid definitely qualifies for. Theodore’s got a few minutes to wait before they’re done with their fun, leaving the kid on the ground with his blood reddening the snow around him. His two friends just laugh at the crumpled up heap on the ground, clutching his nose which seems to be the only think that’s bleeding, but he’s all soggy and wet now because of the snow. Theodore has been sitting on a coat in his little snow throne so he’s fine but the kid looks soaked.

He starts to wish he knew his name. 

Frank also starts to wish he knew Theodore’s name as he’s the only one still standing there after the other two walk away.

“Hey kid, you okay?” he asks Frank. Frank looks at him with a death glare. How can he have the nerve to ask him that after he’d just stood there and let Frank be victimized?

“Yeah fine, no thanks to you,” He pulls himself up but his nose is still bleeding and he has to resort to using his dark black jacket to catching the blood which will definitely stain.

“Sorry kid,” he says, empathetically, but Frank looks madly at him. Sure Theodore may be the nicest of the three, and only ever kicked him a few times ever, but he has the power to stop it completely and doesn’t. That’s what bothers him about the guy. Not that he cares who he is or anything, but if Theodore is going to be friends with two bullies he might as well just be a bully himself. Otherwise it’s pointless.

“Kid? You beat me up for three months and don’t know my name?” Frank asks, very hypocritically. As he said, it’s only been three months so he just hasn’t bothered to learn any of the three’s names but he just assumes they should know his since they pick on him every day. Common courtesy. Know the name of those you bully.

“Uh sorry. It never came up. What is it?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Frank replies to Theodore.

“Okay, well that’s a rather unfortunate title. I’m-“

“I don’t care, just don’t try to talk to me, okay?” Frank says and he storms off leaving Theodore behind him.

Theodore’s name isn’t actually Theodore though, and Frank knows he probably should’ve waited for him to finish his sentence but he decided against it in a split seconds decision.

Frank heads quickly inside the school to grab himself a tissue but doesn’t bother going to the nurse. He’s only been kicked a few times in the leg and got a nose bleed so it isn’t really that big of a deal. His nose isn’t broken either or he’d be able to tell, so he’s fine. He walks into History a little beaten looking with a tissue to his face but once the blood stops he just looks like he fell in a snow drift. 

Jazz Band is next and he’s excited to go see Mikey after the weekend. There’s a substitute today, who says blatantly in the first five minutes of the lesson that he knows absolutely nothing about music and can’t tell a tuba from a piccolo, so he sends them off to do whatever. 

Mikey sits next to Frank and strums lightly for a few minutes without really looking at him.

“Dude either you had a really messy jelly doughnut for breakfast or there’s blood on your face,” Brendon says coming over to them.

“What? Oh, shit,” Frank says, and rubs his sleeve against the spot Brendon points out, after Mikey’s head jolts upwards to look at him.

“Why are you bleeding?”

Frank shrugs, “I get bloody noses when the air is dry. Nothing glamorous.”

Mikey looks skeptical but accepts the answer anyway.

Brendon starts talking vigorously, and without taking any breaths about the girl he’s crushing on, Sarah, which makes Frank silently, but expectedly swear to himself. Brendon’s straight. Bummer, but oh well. Mikey doesn’t really say much but Frank infers that he’s straight too from the way he talks about a girl whose name Frank wasn’t listening to. Everyone’s gotta be straight apparently! He wasn’t really attracted to Mikey anyway though, so he doesn’t care.

On his way to lunch Frank gets held up by his three favorite people in the world, Alvin, Simon and Theodore. Apparently he didn’t get enough of a wailing earlier, but he has recovered from it pretty much, so maybe he actually didn’t get enough of a wailing earlier.

“Sup skank-leach,” Alvin says. Does he just combine a synonym for whore with any noun he can think of? Seriously twat-breath and now skank-leach? Next Frank will be called something like Slut-turtle, or bitch-hairdryer.

Frank sighs contemptuously and says, “What’s been planned for me this time? Public humiliation? Painful evisceration? Passionate defenestration?” 

For some odd reason that doesn’t make sense to Frank or the other two, Theodore jumps at his words. He recovers himself quickly and looks at Frank with an heir of confusion and something else that he doesn’t quite understand.

“What’s defenestration?” Theodore asks eventually.

Frank smiles at the question remembering his conversation with Watchman that took place just last night. It’s actually because of Watchman that the word came so abruptly to his mind.

“It means to throw someone or something out the window,” Frank replies smartly, feeling better than Theodore.

Frank’s never really looked at the three of them before. They’re all standing in front of him far enough away for him to evaluate their appearances quickly. Alvin has long greasy blonde hair and sturdy eyebrows, Simon has dirty-blonde, almost brown hair that looks too straight and short on his head. Then there’s Theodore who doesn’t really look like the other two. Most of his clothes are black and his skin is paler than the other two. He’s wearing mascara but not nearly as much as Pete. Frank guesses he can get away with it because, and only because, he’s got a lot of credibility at this school. The thing that stands out most about Theodore that Frank feels stupid to have never noticed is his red hair. We’re not talking just any old red hair, like a ginger, we’re talking Fire Engine red. Clifford the Big Red Dog Red. Really really red. 

He’s actually pretty hot too, but Frank doesn’t dwell on this too much, as his head is slammed into the locker door after a few seconds. 

Theodore speaks up quickly and says, “come on man, just don’t. We’ll be late for lunch!”

Frank rolls his eyes. Theodore probably feels guilty after their talk this morning. What a hypocrite he’s turning out to be.

“Whatever,” Alvin says and Frank watches them as they walk away down the hall to lunch. The look on Theodore’s face as he walks away from Frank is one he can’t describe. It’s just so weird and he’s never seen anyone look close to the way he looks at Frank right now.

It’s like a combination of sympathy, grief, guilt and something a lot like longing.


	5. ...Well Maybe Not “Theodore”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Gerard is a wistful little bastard who has impure thoughts about a boy with a lip ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jfc! Do you guys know how addicting fruit roll-ups are? I've had like thirty six and a half boxes in the past five minutes but they're so damn good.  
> 

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit. Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit.”

Gerard looks at himself in the mirror of the school bathroom. That kid, the kids he lets his friends beat up at lunch everyday... that kid is the person who haunts his dreams. The kid is the guy he’s in love with.

“Oh shit,” he says once more, looking at his own face in the mirror. How did he never even look twice at that kid? He knew Pansy lived in Jersey, wasn’t it a slight possibility that he went to Gerard's fucking school as well? It’s not a tiny state in population but it’s certainly not huge. He doesn’t live in China for gods sake!

“Oh god, calm down,” he tells himself. Maybe it wasn’t him. Defenestrate is a word, it’s not like that kid could’ve just pulled it out of thin air absently, because he has access to a dictionary. But how many people actually know that word? Gerard didn’t, that’s for sure. That kid even gave him the same word-for-word definition that Pansy did. Plus it’s likely that the word was still fresh in his mind because they’d talked about it last night.

How could he have been so stupid then? He lets his friends beat the kid up, and other kids and he never thought once that the kids they’re beating up could be wonderful and perfect. Pansy alone is basically the most amazing human to have ever walked this earth, maybe those other kids are amazing to.

This has to stop. He has to find out Pansy’s name and he has to make sure they stop hurting him. Whatever it takes. If that kid isn’t Pansy then he should have the freedom to walk safely down the halls anyway but if he is, than its Gerard’s duty to make his life get better. After all he’s almost typed ‘I love you’ in the chat several times.

He has one plus though. Now he has a face. A really beautiful face as well. That kid is gorgeous. He has long dark hair in a fringe over his eye, coupled with a really sexy and lean frame. Now to find out his name.

Gerard walks out of the bathroom door to go meet up with his friends back at their lunch table, and sits down absently, only barely registering their conversation. They’ve always been so annoying, but they’re better than nothing. Bully or be bullied. 

Lucas, the blonde, is the biggest egomaniac Gerard has ever met, and Trevor doesn’t know a tree from a pudding cup.

“Hey guys do you know that... short kids name?” Gerard finally asks.

“What short kid?” Trevor replies looking pained by the mere semblance of using his brain.

“That one kid, before lunch, and this morning,” he asks trying to sound vague.

Trevor shrugs looking completely clueless, but what else is new?

“Frank something, why?” Lucas says stirring his plastic fork mindlessly.

Frank. It fits him perfectly. Pansy even acts like a Frank... or maybe a Frankie? There’s a name though. A name to a face, and that’s what matters. He tries not to think about certain situations in which he would scream that name out, but come one who is he kidding?

“No reason, just thought it was weird what... what he said. Never heard that word.”

Lucas looks at Gerard full of derisiveness, “probably not a real word.”

Gerard puts on his best innocent look and shrugs. Lucas is actually a fairly smart guy. He’s got straight A’s in most of his classes and he’s the kind of person who you’d cheat off of in class but he’s really intimidating in size and muscle. Lucas has greasy blonde hair that’s probably never had more than one or two showers a week, and he’s on several sports teams, including football so the guy can take you down.

“You’re crazy, man,” Lucas says, looking away from him.

“I was thinking though...” Gerard starts but drifts off.

“Thinking what?”

“What? Oh, um... I was just thinking,” Gerard can’t seem to come up with any coherent combination of words, and his mind drifts off until he receives a malice filled look from Trevor, “okay, um... see the thing is, er, that short kid he’s...”

“He’s what? Dude, do you have a hangover or something?”

“No! Just didn’t get much sleep. The thing is that, he’s um,” Gerard is starting to look like an idiot, but he gets a quick and incredibly stupid excuse, “his mom, that kid, Frank’s mom, works with my mom. I don’t want his mom finding out that we, you know... and telling my mom.”

“Aw, yo mommy gonna get mad at you?” Lucas says without a hint of remorse. It’s a stupid lie but it just might be able to save Frank from bullying if Gerard can play his cards right.

“Well if I get grounded than I won’t be able to hang out or get you guys free booze and shit,” he says. Lucas and Trevor are constantly getting drunk because Gerard has a friend who works at the liquor store and has access to beer even though he’s underage. Gerard will partake in the drinking but he never gets hammered the way they do. Sometimes they’re so drunk that they actually forget to go to school the next day and wind up falling asleep in the park. That has never happened to Gerard thankfully, but if it did his brother would never let him hear the end of it.

Lucas considers this for a few moments. The only reason Gerard is even considered a friend of theirs is because of that very reason. He’s a bit of a wimp, and he wears eyeliner which is really emo, so they’ve never been exactly enthusiastic about his company.

“Alright man. Just the one kid then, just Frank. We’ll leave that little twerp alone, but you owe me one,” Lucas says looking lackadaisical by his own words.

“Cool,” Gerard replies trying to look indifferent but, secretly, he's relieved. That’s at least one repentance Gerard can make.

Frank is, for lack of a better word, gorgeous. Gerard can’t see wherever he is in the large cafeteria, but he can picture the boy in his head. He’d never allowed himself to consider Pansy as an extremely attractive person because that was kind of wishful thinking but now that he knows it’s almost definitely this Frank kid, he couldn’t be happier.

For one thing Frank goes to his school, which means Gerard’s chances with him, though not large, are infinitely better than he’d thought. Another added bonus is Gerard now has the opportunity to try and make himself a better person before coming clean to Frank. Frank doesn’t know who Watchman is and if he does know, than the kid deserves an Oscar more than Leonardo Dicaprio. Its unlikely Frank has any idea who Gerard is. 

Plus Frank fits some of the things Gerard had figured out about him. Pansy had to be a short guy, because he’d always said he was an inch away from being a kindergartener, and Frank is definitely a shorty. Pansy had mentioned once that he’d gotten his lip pierced which Frank fits the criteria of. Pansy also talked about bullies a few times, Gerard never thought for one second that Frank was actually talking about him. They’ve come full circle.

While knowing who Frank is may be one thing, the tough part will be getting close to Frank. Getting close enough so that he can tell him who Watchman is. It’s not like Gerard can just go over there and say, “Hey, so I know I’ve beaten you up a few times, and what not, but I’m actually completely in love with you and I know your deepest darkest secrets. Want to be my boyfriend?”

Gerard wistfully stares at his hands which are drumming against the table impatiently. How on earth is he going to go about making a kid who hates him fall in love with him?

This will be a doozy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, because the shit will hit the fan soon and you need to prepare your bodies for it.


	6. Step One: Getting Closer/ Establishing a Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting all up in his business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this chapter and the next are kind of static I'm uploading them at the same time.

**Jersey-Watchman666: Hey so I was wondring if maybe I could hve ur #?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyy?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: idk, so we can text in class. it's nnoying only ever bein able to talk online, u know?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: but isn’t that the point of the site?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: if u dont want 2 I mean, i get that, i just thought we could talk more**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: no I’m not against it, I just... okay, yah sure_

Okay good, that’s one step closer to Frank. Well it’s one step closer to Pansy at least. Gerard snatches his phone quickly and types in the number that is sent his way saving it as Pansy rather than Frank just to be safe. He looks around his room and feels a little nervous all of a sudden. He’s one step closer to Pansy, now he has to get one step closer to Frank. This plan will only work if Gerard and Watchman advance simultaneously because that way he’ll get to know Frank better and Frank will get to know Gerard.

“Why does he have to be so damn beautiful?” Gerard whispers to himself.

“Who?” Mikey’s voice asks from the open door to his right making him jump.

“Uhhh, no one. I mean, Ryan Gosling?” He volunteers. He’s okay, but nothing really to Frank now that he knows Frank is Pansy.

Mikey scrunches his nose, “is that the guy who wrote a letter every day of the year in the Notebook? If you’re going to fantasize about guys couldn’t you at least pick someone more original?”

“Why do you remember that Mikes?” Gerard asks.

Mikey shrugs and walks into Gerard’s room uninvited, collapsing on his bed.

“You talking to your boyfriend again?”

Mikey has this annoying habit of eavesdropping on everything and reading things over people’s shoulders so he’s known about Pansy for almost as long as Gerard has. He constantly refers to him as Gerard’s boyfriend despite his insistence that they’re just friends, even if that’s not exactly by Gerard’s choosing. 

He’s suddenly struck with the thought that Mikey is in the same grade as Frank, and maybe even has some classes with him. For the time being though, he refrains from asking because that will only make Mikey suspicious.

“Did you space out?” Mikey asks, making him realize he’s been staring blankly for a few minutes.  


“What no, I was deep in thought about how annoying you are,” he replies.

Mikey smiles toothily and replies, “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Gerard rolls his eyes, “do you mind getting out?”

Mikey scoffs but hops up anyway and slowly walks towards the door.

“Close the door!” He yells back but Mikey walks out without doing so.

He huffs and walks over to get it himself.

He turns back to the computer but Frank signed out a minute ago anyway to do homework. Gerard frowns and considers texting him so that Frank will have his number, but decides that would be a little too desperate. He’ll wait a little longer. However long he can without imploding.

His mom enters the room a few minutes later to announce she’s going shopping and to ask if he needs anything.

“I need a million dollars, a fully functioning Iron Man suit and a miniature pony, but if they only have horses I can settle with a small horse.”

“Alright,” she says wiping away his sarcasm, “anything else then?”

“A sketchbook?”

“I got you one two weeks ago,” She complains.

“Yes, but I filled it out already,” he replies.

She just rolls his eyes, and turns around.

“Close the door, would you!” He calls after her.

“Nah,” her voice calls as she walks down the stairs.

“Jeez guys! Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door!”

Gerard slams the door and unenthusiastically starts on his pile of homework, and he even manages to keep to it for a few hours until he’s all but ready to rip his hair out, because he literally couldn’t care less how many times people tried to assassinate Rasputin.

The rest of the night passes and all he can really think about is Frank. Why is this guy getting to him so much? Pansy was distracting enough, but now he has a face to go with and it’s ten times worse.

Meanwhile Frank can only think about the fact that Watchman hasn’t texted him yet. Every few minutes he looks down at his phone to see that there are no new messages. This is killing him. He wants to know more about Watchman, and he wants to talk to him more. He wants to know Watchman’s name and where he lives, and his brothers’ name! He wants to know how old Watchman is, and what school he goes to. He wants to know the name of Watchman’s aunts--best friends--cousins--dental hygienists--daughters’ playground crush.

It takes several thousand years in the span of a few hours for his phone to buzz under his fingers, and he energetically flips the screen up.

Unknown is texting him! That’s got to be him.

**Watchman: hey it’s me watchman.**

_Pansy: Hiya, it’s Pansy but u probably knew that._

**Watchman: kinda**

_Pansy: so uh, what prompted the sudden need 4 my #?_

**Watchman: no reason. just get bored in class a lot.**

_Pansy: me 2_

Oh god he sounds so short and skimpy now! He’s been waiting for Watchman to text him for hours and now he’s barely saying anything. Why is this so much more nerve rattling when it’s texting? At least his grammar is a little better on the smaller keyboard.

**Watchman: is it just me or is this kinda weird? I mean I’m so used to the website.**

_Pansy: uh, yeah a little. but it’s easier._

**Watchman: yeah... so did u finish ur homework?**

_Pasny: yes. When does ur school get out? Like wht time?_

Gerard wants to just type that it’s the same time that his school gets out because it’s the same freaking school, but he decides against that and answers.

_Pansy: oh same!_

Yeah Gerard knows.

**Watchman: really? But ur always on l8r than me.**

_Pansy: I live kinda far form school. Well my mom does. my dad is REALLY close._

Gerard tries his best to contain himself from asking where, because he lives close to school as well. Just across the field in fact, maybe Frank is near him. He wouldn’t have noticed because he has after school stuff. Maybe that’s one way he can get closer to Frank. Gerard really needs to calm down or he’s going to end up knocking on every house in the state to find Frank.

He manages to keep himself from spilling anything to Frank, as he talks further into the night than he’d intended to stay up, and they both say goodbye reluctantly to get some sleep.

Frank can’t get to sleep though, his whole mind is buzzing with the prospect of texting Watchman tomorrow. He is so cute the way he talks. Apparently his brother stole his phone and changed it so that every time he gets a text it’s a shrill fog horn, and Watchman can’t figure out how to change it back, so he has to keep the volume off basically 24/7. The idea of hearing a loud fog horn every time you get a text makes Frank giggle to himself in bed. He vacantly gets an image of himself looking flustered at the sound, and wishes he knew what Watchman looked like so he’d know what his reaction might be.

Gerard can’t get to sleep for other reasons. Now that he has a face in mind... well, some things are a bit easier with a face to visualize.


	7. Step Two: Talk to Him More Even When You Probably Shouldn’t

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cutesy stuffs.

If Gerard’s mother could’ve seen the dreams he’d had last night then she would have to buy some heavy duty soap to even begin cleaning up his dirty mind. It’s amazing how imaginative Gerard can be without any experience on the subject.

Frank wakes up excitedly to see that he’s got a new text which simply says, “good morning.” His first instinct is to grin like an idiot, and the smile doesn’t fade throughout his entire morning routine.

He takes a shower and the smile is there, then gets dressed, and brushes his teeth and still there’s a smile. It’s actually quite useful for the teeth brushing. His mom looks at him a bit funnily at the look at breakfast. Nothing can tarnish it though.

He walks to school with a little bounce in his step and when he gets there his face falters a bit to see Alvin and his comrades walking towards him but when they get near to him, they just keep walking. That may have been the strangest thing to have ever happened. He looks back at the three of them to catch the red head looking back at him. When Theodore sees him however he quickly turns away and pretends he hadn’t looked in the first place, which of course doesn’t mean Frank didn’t notice. Why was Theodore staring at him?

Mikey looks at him throughout the duration of art like he’s completely insane. It is a pretty weird thing for a Tuesday morning during a lesson about the color violet.

“Did you have a bad experience with plastic surgery or are you just really into those different shades of purple?” Patrick asks.

“What?” He asks, and his eyes widen as he realizes he’s still smiling like an idiot, “No, I’m just in a good mood.”

“Well purple can have that effect on you,” Mikey says looking at him snootily.

“Can’t a guy be happy without being reprimanded?” Frank asks, but still the smile doesn’t fade he just hides it under his hand a little bit.

Patrick’s eyes roll in a way that says, ‘okay whatever’ without the words needing to be spoken.

“Apparently not you, because you look like you’re tripping on something more heavenly than ambrosia,” Mikey says.

“What’s up anyway?” Patrick asks, and Frank avoids eye contact.

“He looks like he got lucky last night," Pete says.

Frank snaps his head back into attention at that and says, “No!”

Mr. Katzenmeyer looks his way but Frank pretends not to have said or done anything until he carries on with his lesson.

“I’m just in a good mood, okay?” Frank replies, feeling a little embarrassed but no less gleeful.

“Riiiiiiiiiight,” Patrick says and Mikey snorts, then looks away from Frank to hide a smile, so that Frank’s sure Mikey wants to laugh at him and he’s having an extremely hard time not doing so.

“Fuck all of you,” Frank says shaking his head, and turning to look at Mr. Katzenmeyer’s demonstration for something or other.

Gerard isn’t really doing much better. His mind keeps wondering in places that could provide very uncomfortable should he need to stand up, so he has to keep sending those thoughts away which means he actually has to focus on the lecture his teacher is giving, which he’d really rather not do.

Finally it gets to be too much and he has to talk to Frank. He wishes he could hear the sound of his voice too, but unfortunately that’s not an option.

It takes a while for Frank to reply back, and by a while it just takes him until the end of third period, right before lunch.

Unfortunately for Gerard, because he’s apparently a complete idiot, he left the volume on his cell phone up. Up high. 

“Mr. Way!” His stern teacher asks, with an annoyed look on her face.

“Yes?” he asks, knowing he’s in trouble but giving his best guiltless look anyway.

“Is there a boat arriving or is your phone going off?”

“Um it was kind of misty out today so I’d say a boat coming in isn’t completely off the table,” he answers, being a little smart ass and probably getting himself into more trouble.

“That’s an afterschool detention Mr. Way,” she says, and writes up a pink slip for him, which is never the slip you want to be written up for you. She walks over to him and gives him the small piece of paper while kids around him smirk at his dumb expression, but the bell rings a moment later so he rushes hurriedly out of the room not looking forward to the event after school.

He walks down the hallway to his locker and shoves the books into it before grabbing the little paper bag he carries his lunch in. He checks the slip absently. At least it’s with the art teacher, who sort of likes him. Not the fundamentals of art teacher who hates everything with a pulse other than himself. Detention is held by different teachers from day to day and while Gerard hasn’t had enough to say he knows who the best teachers to have are, at least he doesn’t have his math teacher.

He trudges down to the side of the building where, if he’s correct, Lucas and Trevor should be hiding behind the dumpster getting high. He finds them and warns them that a teacher is coming, even though there isn’t one coming, he’s just not in the mood to have to smell the fumes of weed.

The three of them walk into the cafeteria and after a few minutes Gerard almost giggles when Frank texts him. He’s really cute without needing to try, and even in word from Gerard can picture the words rolling of his tongue like honey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is called "Step Three: Try Not To Rip His Fucking Heart Out" so I'll let you digest that hint as you see fit.


	8. Step Three: Try Not To Rip His Fucking Heart Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a misunderstanding takes place.

Frank keeps texting Gerard and barely notices when he walks out of his classroom and into the cafeteria with Mikey where they sit next to Brendon, Ray and a few others. 

He just keeps texting away, and knowing Mikey is a lurker, he makes sure to sit on the other side of the table so that Mikey can’t read over his shoulder. 

“Someone still looks happy,” Mikey says.

“Fuck off,” Frank replies.

“What’s up?” Brendon chimes in.

“Someone slipped him something or other. I don’t know what it is but I want a hit,” Mikey replies, teasingly.

Frank looks up after sending a reply to Watchman to stick his tongue out at him.

Then he hears a sound like a fog horn. 

His whole face falls as Brendon looks around confused at the noise.

Mikey’s gotten up to go get a napkin so Frank turns to Brendon and questions, “did you hear that? It sounded like a fog horn.”

“Kind of the most annoying sound ever if you ask me,” Brendon says shrugging.

Frank doesn’t answer, but he texts the number again and looks around him carefully to see if the noise comes again. He’s sure he’s just imagining it or something. Watchman said his phone makes a foghorn noise and it’s probably just a coincidence, but that doesn’t keep Frank from sending the text.

Another fog horn, a few seconds after the text sends.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers to himself and he completely ignores Ray asking him what’s up, to look around. The source of the noise was definitely in front of him from a few tables away. So he looks over in that direction and evaluates the many tables filled with many people most of whom he’s never thought twice about. After Frank doesn’t receive another text he decides he can’t wait anymore. 

Another text off into the air from Frank’s phone. Watchman will think he sat on his phone or something but he doesn’t care. He needs to find the source of the noise. There’s no way it’s a coincidence if it happens more than two times.

One more fog horn, and he sees the phone that made the noise. Brendon looks completely bewildered by the noise but Frank’s heart stops. 

“No,” he mouths. This can’t be, it just... can’t.

He looks over at the table of his mortal enemy and almost cries.

“Dude are you okay?” Brendon asks. The smile Frank had worn all day is now replaced with pure horror and he almost wants to shriek.

Frank just stares at nothing for a few seconds looking like someone just shot him, and Brendon asks again if something’s worng but the words don’t make it past Frank’s ears.

“I’ve gotta...” he drifts off, and he doesn’t bother finishing his sentence before he jumps to his feet and runs hurriedly to the bathroom to try and compose himself. He’s also pretty sure he’s about to cry and no one needs to see that.

Gerard walks back to his table with an annoyed expression as he sees Lucas holding his phone. Obviously he can’t get in to look through it because it’s password protected, but he looks down at the small black object with a grimace.

“Why do you have my phone?” Gerard asks.

“The fucking thing kept making fog horn noises!” Lucas says looking up, tossing it to him, so that he barely catches it, and almost drops the drink he’d just gone to get. He hadn’t meant to leave his phone on the table, he just wanted to get a bottle of water from the lunch line and it took like ten minutes because everyone was all crowding the caf. at the same time.

Frank probably texted him, so he hurriedly puts in the password and checks his messages. There’s a total of four new messages.

The first one says, “haha I know me too,” which he assumes is the response to whatever Gerard said. The next one is just the word “wut” and then the third is a key smash, but the last one is worrying.

_Pansy: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?_

Gerard looks at it a little terrified. What does he mean? What the hell just happened?

**Watchman: What?**

_Pansy: Stay the hell away from me. Don’t text me. I’m deleting your number._

This must be some sort of joke, he hopes. Maybe someone stole Frank’s phone and is just messing around. What’s going on?

**Watchman: What’s wrong? What did I do?**

_Pansy: And blocking you. ___

__Frank types the words as he sits on the floor of the bathroom, not caring if someone walks in. He can’t even breathe right now. He just can’t believe any of this happened. How can someone he likes so much be so horrible? That Alvin guy? How could that greasy blonde be Watchman? Quickly, Frank rushes into a stall as he feels tears forming in his eyes and he rests his back against the stall door._ _

__Through his tears the phone screen looks blurry, and the smudges of his tear covered fingers leave rainbow streaks on the hard surface. He quickly and surely blocks the number, and deletes the texts._ _

__He has to abandon everything he thought about Watcman and forget him. He can’t just set aside the fact that that person is a bully, and a monster. The first step he has to take is to forget about Watchman and having that reminder in text form could kill him, so his entire inbox is erased out of spite._ _

__“Frank? Is something wrong?” Brendon’s voice asks._ _

__“Go away,” he says._ _

__“I... am so lost. Did I do something?”_ _

__“No,” Frank says and he tries to calm his breathing, “I just need to be alone right now, okay?”_ _

__“Alright, but uh, tell me if you need to talk or something,” he says back, and Frank hears the door close behind him._ _

__Frank lets out a loud and rather ugly sounding sob, but covers his mouth, paranoid that someone is going to hear. He bites down on his arm through his sleeve and the pressure pains him, but it’s the best he can do to keep the strangled goose sounds from coming out of his throat._ _

__When Frank finally feels confident enough to leave the stall he walks out and makes sure his eyes aren’t too red in the mirror, but when he checks his watch he sees that he’s already late for his fourth period class and swiftly exits the bathroom._ _

__“Shit,” he says, and hurries back to his locker to grab his things then he sprints off down the hallway to class._ _

__When he arrives his teacher isn’t too keen on his late arrival. He’s a thin man with not much hair up top, and a painfully unappealing comb over._ _

__“Frank, you’re late.”_ _

__“No shit Sherlock,” he says. Probably shouldn’t have said that to an already rattled teacher. He might’ve gotten off with just a warning if he’d kept his mouth shut, but he’s not exactly in the best of moods and his teacher isn’t at all afraid to give him a pink slip._ _

__Frank checks it and sighs. ‘Talking back to the Teacher’ is such a stupid thing to get detention for. Everyone talks back to the teacher they just do it out of ear shot, yet Frank is the only one with a detention for it._ _

__He goes over to sit next to Brendon who looks completely unimpressed with Frank’s snarky display._ _

__“Someone’s had a bit of a mood swing,” he says, quietly so that the teacher can’t hear._ _

__“Can we just,” Frank pauses so as not to yell or make a rude remark, “just not talk about it. I’m not in a good mood.”_ _

__“Exactly. Whatever happened must have been some hell of a fuck-up for you to have gone from Spongebob to Squidward so hastily.”_ _

__Frank doesn’t say anything in response he just folds his arms on his desk and rest his head between them, surrounding himself in a dark enclosure for a half minute or so. He just needs to gather his thoughts._ _

__How could someone so perfect be so imperfect? Why couldn’t Watchman have been the cute red head? The one with the soul! The universe just isn’t that kind though apparently, because Frank had to get saddled with the greasy bully. He can’t be friends with Watchman after finding that out though. There’s just no way. He can never forgive someone who got so much pleasure out of hurting him. He doesn’t even want to think about being near someone who is such a sadist! Someone who gets joy out of causing pain and distress. Someone who likes bullying people for fun._ _

__Brendon puts his hand on the back of Frank’s shirt and lightly, but forcefully tugs him up, because they’re teacher would not overly enjoy Frank blatantly ignoring him._ _

__“Do you need to fake a nurse visit, or should I just slap you to wake you up?” Brendon whispers._ _

__“Neither, I’m fine.”_ _

__“Yeah and I’m an astronaut,” he replies oozing with sarcasm._ _

__“Alright fine, I’m not okay,” Frank hisses back._ _

__“You promise?” Brendon raises an eyebrow._ _

__“I’m not okay, I promise.”_ _

__“There you go. Admitting it is half the battle.”_ _

__Frank rolls his eyes and half-heartedly muddles through three more hours of hell and resignedly walks into the detention room for an hour and a half more of hell. He never gets detentions usually. He’s had a few for various reasons like skipping class or for being a bully. The teachers at his school are all extremely stupid and have trouble distinguishing between bullies and victims. If victim blaming was an Olympic sport, than Frank would have the silver, second, of course, to the entire female gender._ _


	9. Step Four: Spend Some Alone Time With Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank has a cute laugh.

The minute Frank steps into the art room, where his detention is, he sees a familiar face, or rather a familiar head of hair. It does help that his head is a highlighter. 

Theodore is turned away from him leaning over the back table where student’s works are drying from the last class. Evidently they were using paint, because it smells like paint and Lysol.

Frank ducks his head in order to be more inconspicuous and takes a seat near the front of the room, while pulling up his hood so that Theodore doesn’t notice him, hopefully. There’s already two other students in the room but no teacher yet, so at least he won’t be alone in a classroom with Theodore.

The art teacher is what one could call a ‘TILF’ and he’s also what one would call a hot piece of ass. He’s about thirty but he’s been a staple to the school for five years already, and he’s looking good on that age, because you wouldn’t be able to tell he’s any more than twenty without knowing him. He’s kind of like an artistic genius which is part of the reason Gerard likes him so much, and also it does help when art is being taught by a work of art.

His name is Mr. Potic, but everyone calls him Mr. Poetic because he’s really good with words, and everything else about him is good too. He’s definitively Greek with dark black hair and chiseled features with the smoothest olive skin. That man has absolutely no blemishes on his face at all, he’s probably never even had a fucking pimple.

Mr. Potic walks in just as Frank had been drifting off into a little reverie about him, and he reviews the faces in the room quickly. Frank hadn’t noticed them walk in, but there’s now two more people making a total of seven, including Mr. Potic.

He looks around and then sighs, and says, “I’ve actually got some jobs for you guys. Chores, if you will.”

Frank groans. He’s probably going to end up mopping the floor or something which he’s not keen on.

“Let’s see, since there’s an even number of you, I’ll let you pick a partner and you two can get to it,” he says.

Frank’s never had Mr. Potic as a teacher before so he’s pretty sure the man doesn’t know his name, and he’s also sure that he doesn’t know that Frank has fewer friends than he has toes.

Gerard looks up for the first time at the back and sees the guy in the front slouching with his hood up and recognizes the hoodie immediately as Frank’s. 

Frank tries to digest the words ‘pick a partner’ for a moment too long, and ends up losing the chance to even consider picking. No surprise that the only two girls in the room paired together, and the two guys standing near each other did too, so Frank turns to see who the other person is to see it’s Theodore.

“Oh shit,” he whispers, but he’s pretty sure Theodore heard him because he’s walked to the front of the room and is now looking down at Frank a little nervously.

The only thing running through Gerard’s mind is the question to whether or not Frank knows who Watchman is. For a second he’s terrified but there’s no recognition in Frank’s eyes, so he takes a careful breath at the fact that he probably doesn’t know.

“Alright, then,” Mr. Potic says looking a little bored and he points to the first duo and gives them their instructions, then the other pair, then to Frank and Gerard’s and says, “you two are going to the music room, and you’re working on the brass instruments only. You’re supposed oil the valves, google it if you don’t know what that means, because I don’t.”

Frank groans and looks at his hands for a few moments before standing up to look at Gerard, with a death glare. If looks could kill than Gerard would have his head chopped off, stuck on a pike and fed to cannibals, just with the sheer coldness in Frank’s eyes.

“So uh Frank,” he starts but Frank ignores him and walks out of the classroom quickly and makes his way to the band room. He’d just leave the school entirely if Mr. Potic hadn’t just assured that he’d check in on them all.

Gerard sighs and hopes that Frank’s mad at him for having bullied him and not because he’s Watchman. Why is Frank mad at Watchman in the first place though?

Gerard follows silently and is almost hit by the band room door when Frank enters and slams it back, but luckily he stops before the swing gets him right in the nose.

He walks in and sees Frank walk over to the Brass room. There’s six rooms attached to the main band room. Three offices, that double as lesson rooms, a brass room, a woodwind room, and a string room. The only purpose of any of the three individual rooms is for storing instruments, as both the band and the orchestra use the band room for practice space. Gerard’s spent very little time in any of the rooms, and he’s never been all that interested in spending any time in any of them either. He can only kind of play guitar but he can’t really play guitar for shit.

“Frank-“

“Learned my name did you?” Frank asks. What a hypocrite. Frank doesn’t let it bother him though, because Theodore doesn’t know he calls him Theodore.

“Do you know my name?” He says a little judgmentally.

Well there goes Frank’s pride.

“Nope,“ he says, and he hopes it sounds casual but he’s pretty sure it just sounds immature.

“Gerard,” Theodore says, or not Theodore. Gerard apparently.

“Great,” he says and this time he does succeed in sounding uninterested. He’s the best of the three bullies but he’s still not in Frank’s good books.

Gerard is pretty sure at this point, that Frank has no idea that Watchman is in the same room as him.

“So uh,” He starts but he gets the same death glare from Frank, who’s sat himself down on the bench and grabbed a large black case.

“I’m, um, sorry. Frank?,” Gerard says.

“Good for you,” he says, pulling a French horn out of its case, and looks at it with confusion. He has no idea what he’s doing with the damn thing. 

“No, Frank! Like I’m actually really sorry. I really regret what I’ve done to you,” he says, nervously sitting on the other end of the bench.

“Why?” Frank asks inquisitively with his beautiful brown eyes searching into Gerard’s soul a little mind numbingly. He really has an intimidating glare for such a short guy.

“What do you mean?”

Frank scoffs, and turns his head away from Gerard, “Why now? Why are you all of a sudden sorry?”

Mostly because he’s in love with you, but Gerard decides that’s not the best answer to that particular question, for now.

“I’ve just...”

“Doing some soul searching have you? Realized you’re douchebag?” Frank asks, not making any eye contact. He finds a pamphlet on the door with instructions on caring for a brass instrument and his eyes breeze over it until he decides he understands what to do.

“I guess, yeah,” Gerard replies which isn’t the answer Frank had expected so he looks up to the redhead a little shocked. He had thought Gerard would try to defend himself.

“Well good then, because you’re a real fucktard.”

Gerard tries not to wince at the insult but it hurts a lot more coming from someone he likes rather than just any old person.

“Do you want to yell at me?” Gerard asks tentatively.

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m a, uh, a bully?”

“You are, that’s true,” Frank agrees.

“So you can yell at me, and I wouldn’t blame you. Throw a tuba at me or something,” Gerard suggests. He really doesn’t want a tuba thrown at him, but he puts the offer out there.

“That sounds lovely, but unfortunately I’m a better person than you. I don’t sink that low,” he says, taking a painful dig at Gerard.

“Look, I’m trying to change,” Gerard says, a little desperately, “I’m trying to atone for all the shit I’ve done, okay? I want to stop being this jerk guy.”

“Well Gerard, it may come as a surprise to you but not everyone deserves a second chance, and it’s not so easy as to just apologize. Words are just words.”

“Well if words can hurt, and if words can tear down nations, than words can also be sincere,” he says.

Frank rolls his eyes, “bullshit.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t just make things all better by saying you’re sorry. That’s not how life works, that’s not how people work, and that’s certainly not how I work.”

Gerard hangs his head and looks down at Frank who’s applying something to the valve of the French horn that looks kind of slimy and unpleasant.

“Just because you don’t accept it, doesn’t mean it’s not sincere,” He replies, and silently grabs a case from a shelf in front of him.

They don’t talk for a long time after that. Mr. Potic peers into the room after a little while and talks with Gerard about something to do with art but Frank ignores it and keeps to himself for several more minutes.

“I don’t want you to hate me Frank. If you hated me that would really hurt me,” Gerard says.

“Why would you care? I barely know you,” Frank says. What does Gerard think this is, a cheesy eighties high school movie about friendship?

“Because I think you’re the person who I’ve hurt most, and that sucks,” Gerard replies.

“I don’t hate you as much as those other two, if that helps,” Frank says honestly.

It’s not exactly a compliment but Gerard accepts it as if it is one.

“Do you know their names?” Gerard asks curiously.

Frank shrugs and answers negatively without a care in his voice.

“Lucas, Trevor and me, Gerard. So if you didn’t know any of our names then what must you have thought about us?”

Frank grins slightly to himself, “I called you Alvin, Simon and Theodore.”

Gerard laughs involuntarily, and he sees the Pansy in Frank leaking through to the surface. Pansy is comfortable with Gerard, and that’s the difference between Frank and Pansy. Gerard is sure Frank is always Pansy, but only when he’s calm.

“You named us after chipmunks?” He asks, and Frank giggles cutely on the other end of the room. God, Frank has a cute laugh.

“It was either that or Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup,” Frank says and even though Frank’s head is turned away from him, Gerard can tell he’s smiling.

“Who am I then?”

“Theodore,” Frank says, and he looks at Gerard for a small second with a grin.

“Really? But what about my hair? Isn’t my hair merit enough to be Alvin?”

“I never really looked at any of you. But I know what shoes you wear,” Frank shrugs. He has stared at their shoes more times than he can count.

Gerard sighs and comes down from his momentary high. Their detention is almost over because they spent most of the time in awkward silence.

“So can I ask you a question, Frank?”

“Depends.”

“Is there a possibility, even a tiny possibility, that you might forgive me someday?”

Frank frowns and looks at Gerard for a second and answers, “It’s possible, but it’s not going to be any time soon.”

Gerard smiles a little at the answer. It isn’t a no. It’s almost a probably, it’s close at least.

“I can live with that,” Gerard answers, and the door opens behind them a moment later, with Mr. Potic’s dismissal releasing them from their brass prison.

Frank walks eagerly out of the room and doesn’t stop to say goodbye to Gerard but he feels a little better by the whole ordeal than he thought he would. 

Frank might forgive him. Frank is adorable. Frank used to call him Theodore. Frank has a cute laugh.

As he walks home Frank is a little frazzled by it. There had been something about Gerard that seemed so familiar. It was so weird. He was so weird as well, but he was actually pretty nice, and he seemed sincere. 

Maybe he’ll forgive him someday. Possibly he’ll forgive him.

Frank sighs. 

He will, most likely, forgive Gerard.


	10. To Be Frank, They’re On Their Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “To Be Blunt, They’re Moving Forward”

“Waaaaaaaaait,” the word is too strung out and makes Frank seem like a complete imbecile, “you guys are dating?”

Pete shrugs and looks at Patrick, “I guess.”

“You learn something new every day,” Franks sighs, looking down at his blank paper. Frank doesn’t actually remember what they’re meant to be drawing but he looks at Mikey who looks completely unsurprised by the revelation about Patrick and Pete.

Frank had only just noticed that they were holding hands, and Mikey didn’t seem to care. At least that’s something good for Frank to know. Mikey wouldn’t be mad if he came out to him, and those two certainly wouldn’t. That doesn’t mean he’s going to come out though, it’s just good to know.

“You still sleeping over tonight?” Mikey asks, nonchalantly.

Frank nods affirmatively. He, Brendon and Ray are sleeping over at Mikey’s. Frank hadn’t even been to an actual sleepover since the fifth grade. Sixth grade and ninth grade are the two years when you’re most likely to be abandoned by your friends, and Frank was no exception. He had lost his friends because they all had superficial goals that included becoming popular, but he didn’t really care anymore. He’d moved on from them, and they certainly didn’t care about him.

“Long weekend plans?” Patrick asks.

Three days isn’t exactly a long weekend, but it’s better than two days. Frank honestly doesn’t even know what they get a day off for, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. A day off from school is a day off from school, end of story.

It’s Thursday for them so it feels a little weird, not having school the next day, but Frank’s a little more excited than he’s letting on to spend time outside of school with friends. It’s unheard of for him.

It’s been two days since that detention with Gerard and for some reason it’s all Frank’s been able to think about. Gerard was so... cute?

Frank threw away the very idea. No way is he going to allow himself to be attracted to a bully. Well if he’s not a bully anymore though... Frank throws away that idea as well. Only when he’s sure he’s forgiven Gerard will he allow himself to like him at all.

“My brother’s got an appointment thing around six so he’ll be gone for a few hours, but we have to meet him after school to walk home,” Mikey informs him.

They’re going directly to Mikey’s house after school because he lives so close to the school. For Frank it had been easy to just pack a small bag and leave it at his dad’s house, where he can just run in and grab it, but Brendon had to use his backpack so it looked twice as big as usual. Frank had only seen him earlier that morning but he looked weak and small trying to lug around three textbooks in his arms instead of his book bag.

“You know I’ve never actually met your brother,” Frank says absently, scratching away at his paper.

“He’s annoying,” Mikey grimaces, “but he’s okay.”

“I don’t have any siblings,” Frank says, even though Mikey already knows that.

“Lucky,” Mikey answers.

Frank doesn’t think much about it. He rather enjoys lunch. Patrick and Pete sit with them because apparently they can no longer sit with their old friends, for homophobic reasons.

“I hate math!” Ray says coming to their table a little later than usual, and slamming his textbook on the table top with a loud bang.

“What’s up?” Mikey asks, seemingly unstartled by the loud noise.

“I forgot to do my homework, so I have to do it before fourth period,” Ray says with a pout as he dives into his geometric proofs.

Frank shrugs. Ray has the annoying teacher that checks peoples work rather than the lazy one he has. Frank still hasn’t actually done any math homework other than studying since the beginning of that year. It’s been almost four months since then, and he’s known Mikey for about a fourth of that.

“Math is actually just a sadist ritual to make teens want to pull their eyelashes out one by one,” Ray says.

“You say that but have you had Health yet?” Mikey asks. Health is in place of gym every other day, and Frank had been more than thankful to get that over with.

“No, why?”

Mikey just raises his eyebrows warningly, “let’s just say, I have never been so thoroughly lied to about anything as much as I had been in there.”

“Heteronormative and misogynistic,” Frank mumbles. Health is, of course, just a friendly name for ‘sex ed.’ and it is extremely biased. The entire course was made for straight men. If you’re a girl you might as well not have showed up and god forbid you’re gay because then you don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.

Pete shrugs, “that’s what google is for.”

Frank looks at him a little critically, “I think google is actually for cat pictures and cheating on your homework.”

He shrugs in a ‘same thing’ sort of way.

For some reason that leads them to a debate on which is worse, Math or Health. It’s a dead tie for Frank, because both have the possibility of actually being useful but they’re taught so badly that there really isn’t a point.

What’s the point in a sex ed. class where you tell the girls they’re idiots if they don’t take your advice, but don’t teach them anything? That’s like getting mad at a toddler for drawing on the wall when you didn’t tell them not to do so in the first place. What’s the point? Another stupid thing about health is that they don’t do any coverage for gay people. If you’re a lesbian than you end up with less knowledge than when you started and if you’re gay then you have to try and figure out what the hell any of the terms you’re being taught have to do with anything.

Then there’s math, where you could be learning things you actually need, and might use in the real world outside of school, but then they teach you a bunch of algorithms that no one has ever used, ever. No one actually has a friend who buys 674 gallons of milk from the grocery store and delivers them each individually to separate people on certain days of the week. Story problems are meant to be a link to the real world, but no one even buys more than two gallons of milk anyway. What would you do with all that milk? You’re not going to drink it! Do you need to bathe in the fucking milk or something?

Frank’s mind gets lost in the very idea of all that milk for the rest of the day, because milk is a whole lot more interesting than anything else.

English basically consists of the same thing, so he barely pays attention to that either. It’s his last class, and it’s with Mikey but that doesn’t make it any more fascinating. They over analyze the theme of some book that no one has ever actually read but many people say they did so as to make themselves looks smarter. The teacher makes all these parallels to real world problems that are not waterproof and don’t make much sense in the first place, and the whole thing just seems kind of fake. No one actually cares about this 19th century novel where women are treated like objects or prizes, or that early 1900 sci-fi novel where the ‘distant future society’ setting has long since been passed. “Holden Caulfield thinks you’re a phony,” as John Green would say, and Frank thinks the entire structure for the American public school system is built around phonies in the way that Mr. Caulfield would decidedly agree with.

He doesn’t register that class is almost over until he hears the bell ring, but he’s perfectly okay with the time having passed, so he walks out of the room with Mikey. He always remembers how short he is when he stands next to Mikey who isn’t all that tall either, but he’s much taller than Frank.

Frank walks behind Mikey where they meet Brendon at his locker, trying unsuccessfully to cram several textbooks into a locker that is not built for anything larger in diameter than four centimeters.

“Fucking textbooks,” he murmurs, and eventually forces it in, so that the next time he opens that locker he is going to be attacked by an avalanche of the entire contents falling out, but Frank says nothing, because he doesn’t want to wait any longer.

They meet Ray outside next to a large snow pile and wait for Mikey’s brother.

Frank’s actually curious to meet him, because he’s never really considered whoever the guy is, but he’s probably walked past him a few times in the hallway. Should be fun. The other Way brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sleepover trope, it has to be done and you will understand why soon.


	11. The Other Way Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many thing happen, man. It cray-cray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are probably wondering why I update so quickly, and it's honestly just because I'm an insanely fast typer. That's what six years of private school will do for you. I had a class solely dedicated to typing, when I was only five years old. I'm up to 92 words per minute (not to brag, but that's literally the only thing I exceed in, so I actually will brag).

It takes a few minutes but at last Mikey finally looks up and says, “Ugh, finally! There he is.”

Frank looks up to see the enigmatic brother but then his heart stops, and his face falls.

“No. Fucking. Way,” He says, with complete dread and disbelief.

“Frank?” The older brother asks looking at him, with just as much surprise as Frank has.

“Gerard,” Frank states.

Mikey looks completely confused, “You said, literally like three hours ago, that you didn’t know my brother.”

“You’re Mikey’s best friend?” Gerard asks ignoring Mikey’s question, and he looks completely perplexed just like Frank.

“You’re Mikey’s brother?”

Suddenly he realizes why Mikey and Gerard both looked familiar, it’s because they look like each other. Not overly, but enough that it’s obvious they’re siblings.

Brendon whispers discreetly into Ray’s ear, “are you as confused as I am?” Ray nods which makes him feel a little better about not being in the loop.

“What? How do you two know each other?” Mikey asks, on the same level as both Brendon and Ray.

“We don’t really,” Gerard says nervously.

Frank sees his opportunity though, and he can tell Gerard is hoping Frank will say anything but what he’s about to say, but Frank’s a bit of an asshole.

“Actually we do know each other,” Frank says slowly making Gerard shake his head franticly in a plea, “you’re brother likes to beat me up everyone once and a while.”

“What?” Mikey asks completely shocked.

“Now that’s not fair, I never beat you up, Frank!” Gerard says.

“You didn’t stop it though.”

Gerard opens his mouth to retort and then closes it.

“Gee, why would you do that?” Mikey asks angrily.

“I- I mean I said sorry like a day ago!” Gerard says but it’s a pretty weak backing, “so obviously I regret it.”

“I haven’t forgiven you yet though,” Frank answers, “besides that doesn’t make up for it!”

“Since when did Frank talk to anyone besides us?” Brendon asks, quietly making Ray snort.

“I’m going to push you into a snowbank now,” Mikey says stridently. Gerard doesn’t say anything but he lands in a large pile of snow a second later.

“Really Mikey? You could have at least given me a forewarning!” Gerard says pushing himself off his back.

“I did give you a warning,” Mikey huffs.

“A countdown at least,” he answers, and when he looks up at his brother he sees Frank smiling really widely. He doesn’t look evil, or sadistic or anything like that, he just looks amused and happy, and Gerard can’t really help but understand why. It’s kind of funny seeing a teenage guy thrown into snow by a toothpick.

“Does this happen often with you two?” Ray asks.

“He beat up my friend, I threw him in the snow. It’s the least he deserves,” Mikey says, walking away from Gerard casually, who’s trying to get up, but the snow has sucked him in like quicksand.

“I’m... okay, it was never me! It was Lucas, and I told him to stop! I told him he can’t do that to Frank anymore.”

“Why do you care so much?” Frank asks, his smile replaced with angry curiosity. 

“I just- do. I just care,” Gerard says, finally pulling himself up and onto his feet.

“It’s great to hear that, but can we go! My feet are cold,” Brendon says, and Mikey’s already walking to the house so he’s far ahead of them. Ray and Brendon walk off after him, but Frank and Gerard pause to eye each other for a few moments before Frank follows.

“I’m all wet,” Gerard groans after they’re halfway across the field.

“Tough shit,” Mikey says.

“Why are you mad at me, Mikey? I mean understand why Frank is, but-“

“Frank’s my friend.”

Frank blushes a little, at the severity in Mikey’s voice, and looks at Gerard almost sympathetically, but not quite.

“Do you want push me into the snow too?” Gerard asks.

Frank lights up a little bit, “Can I?”

Gerard just sighs and pauses. Frank giggles and then nudges him into a particularly tall mound of snow.

“Did that make you feel better?” Gerard says trying to look miffed but he’s actually trying to suppress a smile.

“Yeah actually,” Frank says. He’s surprised when Frank offers him a hand to get up but he accepts it anyway. Any excuse to hold Frank’s hand.

“Thanks,” he says, but Frank shrugs, letting go of his hand immediately, and then speeds up behind the others to catch up with Brendon. Maybe Frank didn’t feel a spark but Gerard sure did. He’s surprised his hair isn’t standing on end.

“Mikey’s brothers kind of strange,” Frank whispers.

“So are you,” Brendon replies.

“No I mean, like, he lets his friends bully me for over three months and then all of a sudden stops and want forgiveness. What’s that all about?”

“Maybe he saw the light. Or had a Eureka moment, and realized he was being a jerk,” Brendon answers.

Frank sighs, unconvinced.

“Well he seems sincere though, should I forgive him?” Frank asks.

Brendon doesn’t answer immediately before saying, “I think you need to consider how hard he’s made your life. If he’s made it hell than I’d say no, but I think he’s trying to make an effort, and you’ve got to commend him for setting aside his pride like that.”

“Pride is for children. It’s not meant for real world interactions. I’m glad he’s trying to grow a pair and suck up,” Frank says.

“That sounds kind of kinky, but whatever you say Frankie,” Brendon answers, prompting Frank to punch him in the arm.

“And don’t call me Frankie.”

“Brendon stop flirting with Frank!” Mikey hollers from ahead of them. He and Ray are at the front of the group, followed by Frank and Brendon, with Gerard lagging at the back.

“I was not,” Brendon calls back, “he’s not my type anyway. I prefer it when they can actually get on rides at amusement parks.”

“Dude, that was low,” Frank answers.

“So are you, to the ground, I mean.”

“One of these days, Brendon, you are going to be walking down the street minding your own business, and I will come out of nowhere to push you in front of a bus,” Frank says.

“I look forward to that day, but until then, you can have fun with your relatives in Munchkin Land.”

“Fuck you.”

“What was that? I can’t hear you from down there.”

Frank doesn’t say anything in response because Brendon’s laughing to himself so he just rolls his eyes, and tries to trip him. Almost successfully, he makes Brendon lose his footing, but he doesn’t actually fall.

The boys continue walking to the Way house, Frank makes a quick stop at his dads to put away his backpack and grab his small knapsack.

When he walks out, Mikey’s already walking away with Ray, and Brendon is standing, bored, waiting for him as far away from Gerard as he can without it being awkward.

“Come on,” Frank says, and they get to the house a few minutes later.

“Mom, we’re home!” Mikey calls as soon as he walks into the house.

“Upstairs!” A woman’s voice shouts back.

“She’s upstairs,” Mikey says.

“How’d you work that one out?” Gerard taunts, but Mikey sticks his tongue out at him and leads them into the living room which is just off the entrance. The Kitchen was visible from the entrance as well, leading to the left, but Frank didn’t look too hard at it, and was lead forward to the relatively messy family room. It’s not exactly unclean but it’s not exactly tidy either. There’s papers everywhere and various assortment of books but other than that there’s not much.

On the other side of the room, opposite the entryway they’d just walked through, is a set of stairs going up, and one going down. There’s a gap between the two so that you can see the wall for the stairs going down, and together they look like parallel lines.

“We’re going downstairs, but I should introduce you to my mom first,” Mikey says, and Frank is barely aware that Gerard is behind him until he brushes past and throws his bag over the couch then goes around to the kitchen, which has another entrance on the other side of the room.

Mikey stands awkwardly in front of them and says, “Welcome to Casa de Way. Hey that rhymed.”

He walks behind his brother into the kitchen so the three of them follow.

“Thirsty?” Mikey asks.

Ray accepts a coke, and Brendon a water, but Frank doesn’t want anything. For some reason, Gerard fusses about with making himself a cup of coffee in the middle of the day, but Frank just accepts it as another weird thing the older Way does.

Gerard leaves the kitchen and goes up stairs not long after he finishes making his coffee.

Mrs. Way, walks into the room a minute later and greets her son, then turns to look at the other three.

“Let me see, Mikey’s only ever referred to you guys as the afro, the shorty and the other guy,” she says.

Mikey nods to himself with satisfaction at the nicknames before she correctly guesses who each of them is meant to be and they give her their actual names. Ray being the afro, Frank the shorty, and Brendon is the other guy.

“Why am I just the other guy?” Brendon asks, as Mikey leads them downstairs. 

“Because you don’t have a distinct identifier.”

“What about ‘inhumanly good looking’?” Brendon suggests.

“Well maybe if you cut out the ‘good’ so that you’re just inhuman looking,” Frank answers.

“Shut up, shorty,” Brendon replies.

“You wish, inhuman looking.”

They walk down the stairs, to which the door at the bottom leads into a fairly large room, with an open layout. It’s definitely used as a second living room, but it has more furniture than the upstairs. There’s a long sectional and a loveseat, a table between the two, a TV in front of them both, and behind the two sofas is a large poker table, which looks like it’s never seen a game of poker in its life. Surrounding the TV are several large cases filled with movies and one of them is dedicated to video games. 

They don’t do much of anything for a few hours besides talk and throw things at each other. Brendon, apparently, has a very good throwing arm.

Mikey’s mom comes down after a while and asks them if they’re ready for food, which they definitely are, so they order a few pizzas.

Mikey takes the three of them up to his room while they wait for the food and this is the point when Frank realizes Gerard’s door is open and he watches Frank carefully as they walk up the stairs. 

He’s so freaking attractive though and Frank hates himself for looking back but he just wants to see him. He’s got a fairly above average face that demands to be viewed.

He pretends he didn’t look however, and follows Mikey to his room. He puts Gerard off of his mind until a few minutes later when Gerard knocks on the door and hands them the pizza boxes, and then awkwardly walks away. Before he does though, he catches Frank’s eye for a few seconds and he can’t tell if Gerard’s nervous or scared of him.

Gerard walks away timidly and goes back to his room, trying to drown out the sounds of his brothers friends until his ‘appointment’ later on. That’s what they call therapy at the Way house, because it bothers him to hear the real word.

For a long time he just talks with the other three and takes in Mikey’s room. Frank excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and it’s at this point when he realizes Gerard is not in his room.

The door is wide open, so he nervously peaks in and sees the dark abode that Gerard surrounds himself in. There are several band posters on the wall, as well as a Star Wars poster, but most noticeably is the luminescent glow of the laptop that still open on his desk.

Now Frank is not a snooper, nor has he ever been one, but the familiar design of the website, clearly open on the computer, catches his eye.

It’s fucking Closetedteens.org! 

So there’s at least one revelation that Frank can make right away. Gerard’s gay. He walks a little closer and creepily enters the vacant room to take a closer look.

He rubs the track pad slightly to lighten the screen which was a darkened tint because it hadn’t been in use for a few minutes, and Frank studies the page for a minute.

In a stunned silence he sees the username Gerard’s logged into which is conveniently on the right-hand corner of the page. This leads to, what he can only assume, is a mini-heart attack.

WATCHMAN.

Franks can’t do much of anything for a second or two, but he straightens himself up a little bit and walks out of the room so that he can’t get caught in Gerard room. His eyes are probably wider than anyone’s eyes have ever been, but he walks into the bathroom and looks at himself for a while.

He blinks a few times and tries to figure out a way to digest the information, but it’s kind of hard. 

“Watchman is... Gerard,” he whispers to himself, but saying the words don’t make them compute.

“Gerard is Watchman,” but still it doesn’t make sense. How can Gerard be Watchman? How can... really, though, Gerard? 

Gerard is friends with that Lucas kid so Frank supposes Lucas could have been holding Gerard’s phone but it’s all too much information to process.

“Watchman equals Gerard,” He says, and finally it starts to sink in a little bit.

He’s a little calmer on the outside than on the inside. On the outside he looks kind of casual, and contained, but on the inside he’s exploding.

How can Theodore be Gerard, AND Mikey’s brother AND Watchman? This is so weird. How on earth can Gerard be Watchman? Now that he thinks about it though how can Watchman be anyone but Gerard? That familiar presence he’d felt during detention was because Gerard was Watchman.

It takes Frank a few more minutes but finally he’s able to pull himself into a composed looking person, slightly on edge, but for the most part, normal.

“Hey dude where’s your brother?” Frank asks as casually as he can after entering Mikey’s room.

Mikey shrugs, “Some appointment thing. He won’t be back for a while.”

“Oh Okay,” Frank says and he allows them to go back into a conversation about whatever.

All he can think about now is whether or not Gerard knows. Frank decides that Gerard probably doesn’t know. Should Frank tell him? Should he confront him, and just go “HEY, I’M PANSY AND I’M SORT OF IN LOVE WITH YOU! WANNA HAVE MY FUTURE UNBORN ADOPTED BABIES?” but that’s probably not the best approach. 

He considers it for a very long time. Long enough for them to walk back downstairs and watch a movie. He considers it while some idiot character gets himself hacked to pieces on the screen. 

He doesn’t really come to any conclusions other than the fact that he’s a lot happier with Watchman’s true identity. Gerard’s hot, and he has a soul, and he’s actually trying to be nice to Frank. Probably a coincidence that Frank found out now then.

But should he tell Gerard? He’ll scare him since Gerard doesn’t know. Gerard will be creeped out with the fact that Frank was sneaking around his room, and he’ll be completely confused. He’d probably be disappointed that Pansy is Frank. Frank’s nothing special, he’s just sort of there. Frank’s not interesting or cool, or beautiful the way Gerard is.

“Fuck,” He sighs resolutely, and he doesn’t bother to care about the stares from the other three, because he’s so scared of what comes next.


	12. Pride is For Children and Also Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't trust Frank near large bodies of water.

At every sleepover, sometime around three in the morning, there’s always those two people who are still awake. One will say either something really stupid, or something really deep and it’ll take a while for that other person to answer but they always will. 

It’s kind of an unspoken rule that you’re all slap-happy around one in the morning and then you start crashing until you’re just a tired awake person. There’s also usually that one who person who falls asleep way before anyone else. That person is the one most likely to wake up with whipped cream on their face.

Frank is the one to say something in the middle of the night, and he doesn’t really put much thought into it, he just sort of talks. 

“Hey Mikey?” He says. Brendon’s snoring somewhere near Frank’s foot, and Ray was that one who fell asleep like two hours ago.

“What?” Mikey asks after several minutes of silence that don’t seem all that awkward.

“I kind of really hate your brother.”

“Join the club,” Mikey says back.

“No like really. He’s such a hypocrite. He was mean to me and now he thinks he can just be nice and I’ll forgive him.”

“I’ll push him into the snow again if you want.”

Frank chuckles and continues, “I just kind of want him to realize that I’m not a baby. He gets his friends to stop bullying me, but I see them pick on other kids still. I’m just one person, I don’t want to be the exception.”

“I’ll probably throw him in the snow anyway,” Mikey answers. He’s on the other side of the room, and they’re not talking all that loudly, but he can hear Mikey pretty clearly. Even over Brendon’s snoring.

“I’d rather they picked on me and only me, then all of those other people.”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

“Are you mad at me for hating him? I mean he is your brother.”

Mikey stews on the question for a while. Frank can’t help but think about Gerard. Just because he’s cute doesn’t make up for him being a prick. Just because he’s Watchman doesn’t mean he’s above criticality.

“I think, if you hated him just because you can then I’d be kind of angry. If you didn’t like him because you’re a cynic than I’d be mad, but I sort of get it. I wouldn’t be nearly as accepting as you are.”

“I’m tired of getting angry at everything. Also it’s three in the morning and I don’t have the energy to fume,” Frank answers.

“Does that mean you’re going to complain for the rest of the week?” Mikey moans.

“We’ll see. I’m going to sleep now though,” Frank answers.

“Good for you,” Mikey answers.

Eventually Frank does sleep, and his dreams are kind of weird. In some of them he really wants to make out with Gerard but in others he kind of just wants to throw him off a pier. He does throw Gerard off a pier in one of them. It’s a good thing dream-Gerard can swim.

When Frank wakes up, Brendon is the only other person who’s conscious, and he’s silently trying to hide behind his blanket, playing Flappy Bird.

Due to the fact that Brendon’s on the floor right in front of the couch Frank’s asleep on, he sees this as a golden opportunity to scare the crap out of Brendon by whispering something over his shoulder.

Carefully, and quietly he sneaks up so that he’s right behind Brendon’s ear and then whispers, “you know you really suck at this game.”

“Fuck!” He jumps up, making Frank giggle, “I will cut you, Iero.”

Frank just smiles back, and commends himself on being a marvelously annoying friend.

“So I hear you want to throw Gerard in front of an oncoming train,” Brendon says casually.

“How’d you kno-“

“I may snore, but you talk in your sleep.”

“What else did I say?” Frank asks.

“Something about watching someone or something like that,” he shrugs. Yikes, Frank probably said Watchman. He’s still confused about the whole Watchman thing.

It feels like someone put his emotions into a blender and then threw the blender at him and told him to put the pieces back together. Nothing makes sense. It’s like he wants to hate Gerard, but he’s also in love with Watchman, but Watchman is Gerard so he hates him. He hates him and wants to kiss him, basically. Gerard is just a grey area for Frank right now. 

He wouldn’t trust himself next to a pier with Gerard, that’s for sure.

Evidently he stares off into space for several minutes, and when he comes back down to earth it’s because a pillow had been aimed at his head by Mikey.

“Ow,” Frank shouts, “what was that for?”

“Dunno, the pillow just flew out of my hands towards your head. Maybe your head attracts pillows like a magnet. Like a pillow satellite.”

Frank sighs, “That doesn’t make any sense, if anyone has a magnetic head it’s Ray. He’s got all the hair, there’s got to be some sort of static field around him.”

“Hey I’m awake you know!” Ray’s voice says.

“Well I meant every word.”

“What time is it?” Mikey complains, and checks the clock to see that it’s almost noon.

“I’m tired!” Mikey complains again.

“Suck it up, Way,” A new voice says, and they turn to see Gerard’s just walked into the room, “Mom wants to know if you guys want lunch?”

Frank looks at Gerard, unfalteringly with venom. When Gerard sees Frank’s glare he’s caught off guard a little bit. He’s kind of looking at Gerard like he’s plotting his murder.

Mikey grumbles something about having a dream about a sandwich, but Gerard doesn’t hear it because he’s too focused on the death glare. 

Frank’s busy hoping his mutant powers are going to sink in and burn Gerard’s foot or something, but unfortunately they don’t. He’ll never be Cyclops, which is a shame because James Marsden is a good looking chap.

“Are you two done mentally killing each other, because I’m starving!” Mikey says.

Gerard fumbles out of the room, feeling like someone stabbed him. What the hell was wrong with Frank? Frank has never looked at him that angrily, even before they started talking.

Every time that day that Frank makes eye contact with Gerard, it’s just daggers. Like he’s waiting to strike. Gerard is the mouse and Frank is the awaiting cobra.

When Frank grabs his stuff later that day, and head off toward home, Gerard feels guiltier than he ever has.

He knows he’s being an idiot, and he knows he should just let Frank be mad at him, but he decides he can’t just wait there, and before Frank gets too far down the street, Gerard carefully walks after him.

“Frank!”

Frank doesn’t turn at his name because he recognizes Gerard’s voice, and doesn’t overly want to talk to him. Gerard is terrified that he’s going to lash out or something, but he needs to talks to Frank somehow. Tell him he’s trying his hardest.

“Frank?” Gerard’s legs are a lot longer than Frank’s though, so he catches up to Frank and starts to walk with him.

“What do you want?” He growls.

“I... I don’t know. I want to know what I can do.”

“Do?” Frank asks, and he still hasn’t looked at Gerard.

“Yes, I mean... jeez. I want to know if there’s anything I can do to make you stop hating me?”

Frank’s boiling, and he doesn’t know why. He’s afraid of being alone with Gerard, even if ‘alone’ is in the middle of a public street where anyone could be watching.

Gerard waits for an answer for a while, and they’re almost to Frank’s house when he finally responds, “there is no resolute thing that’s going to make this any better, Gerard.”

“Well, is there anything I can do to start?”

Frank considers this for a while, “Not until you stop bullying people.”

“I did-“

“Not just me, Gerard,” Frank says, and he looks at Gerard for the first time. His red hair is askew and hanging across his face. He’s also shivering because he didn’t put on a coat before walking outside. 

“I’m just one person Gerard, and I deserve leniency no more than any of the other people you pick on.”

“I’m not the one who-“

Frank interrupts him again, “but you don’t stop it! We’ve been over this. You’re just a bystander and you don’t prevent it. That’s almost as bad.”

Frank, is unfortunately, extremely attractive when he’s mad, but Gerard brushes this off as best as he can and nods.

“You’re right,” Gerard answers.

Frank’s a little surprised by the answer but he doesn’t show it, “I know I am.”

“I’m sorry Frank. I’ll keep apologizing until my lips bleed. Because you’re right.”

“Good,” Frank says, and he walks past Gerard and up his driveway, which Gerard hadn’t even noticed they were standing in front of. He hadn’t considered how close Frank actually lived. He’d talked to Pansy when he was less than a few minutes away, and he never realized it.

“I will make this better, Frank. I promise,” he calls after the short boy. He watches until Frank slams the front door behind him, and even after that he dwells in the same spot until he decides to walk way.

As soon as Frank enters his dads house, he shouts so that his dad knows he’s home, and then trudges quickly into his room.

As much as Frank would like to say he didn’t cry, he can’t deny it. As soon as he hits the duvet it floods out.

There’s no other way for his body to react after he’s tried to contain everything for the past few hours, and it feels broken. Watchman is Gerard, and Gerard isn’t perfect. When Watchman was just a profile on the computer, Frank could pretend. He could pretend that he was perfect and that he had never hurt a butterfly or that he was a fucking angel, but he knew, somewhere deep inside of him, that Watchman had flaws. Why did the flaws have to include being a douchebag though?

After a couple minutes he stops crying. It’s not steady or anything, he just stops, and blinks. Tears stop, and he feels almost bored now. There’s a hollowness inside him now because Watchman is essentially out of his life.

Frank groans but finally makes a decision. A tentative decision. 

Gerard doesn’t know Pansy is Frank, he assumes. Since Watchman doesn’t know Pansy’s identity, he can talk to Watchman. Not Gerard, of course, not yet. Frank decides, that for now, he’ll treat them as two different people. Gerard is on parole, and Watchman is on conditional terms as well, but not as strict, because Frank just really wants to talk to him again. He wants Watchman in his life. He want that person to be there, and eventually he might be okay if that person is Gerard, but until then it’s going to be Watchman.

It’s like a craving. Frank just really wants to talk to him, and know he’s listening.

“Alright Frank. Just remember that pride is for children,” He says to himself, and he walks over to the computer left on his desk.

“Pride is for children,“ he repeats.

“Pride is a sin,” he says, “Pride is for children. And lions from Disney.”

He sits down in the chair in front of his computer and places his fingers on the keyboard, but he doesn’t do anything for a long time. Finally, he inhales and goes for it.

_That_Pansy_Misfit: Hey there._


	13. Admitting, Committing, and Starting Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here you will notice my strict stance on morality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://s1291.photobucket.com/user/Sexy_Bread_Tin/media/FanFictionArt_zps309be1c4.png.html)   
> 
> 
> Yay Cover Art! (took me a while, but I actually like how it turned out. BUT if there are any artists out there who want to do a redesign or have a completely different idea, then I'll gladly include it and credit you).  
> 

**Jersey-Watchman666: I thought u hated me whats up? I messed u.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: I had a... bad day_

**Jersey-Watchman666: bad day? tht was more than just a bad day.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: culd u mayebe forget abt that_

**Jersey-Watchman666: are u gonna explain wut happened?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: i’d rather not_

**Jersey-Watchman666: mmk, as long as we stll talking**

**Jersey-Watchman666: I gota go change my clths, hold on.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: in the middl;e of the day?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: my brother threw me in a snow pile**

Frank laughs out loud at this, knowing that Mikey threw Gerard in the snow again. He’s been shoved into a lot of ice in the past few days.

Gerard had been extremely surprised to see Frank talking to him again. Well not him, but Watchman anyway. He wants to know why Frank got mad at Watchman in the first place, but he just way too happy that he’s taking to him again, that he doesn’t want to threaten that. At least now he knows not to tell Frank who he is. Especially since Frank wants to kill the man behind the curtain.

Neither had realized how boring life had become without each other. It was like playing a video game with a different avatar, it’s still the same thing really but it feels off. Out of place and wrong. Frank puts Gerard’s number back in his phone and it feels almost like things are back to normal.

For two days, it feels better, but on Sunday Gerard can’t help but be terrified of the next day. He’s made a plan... it’s just not a very good one. He’s already too far in love with Pansy, and by default Frank, that he has no choice.

When Gerard wakes up he’s got pretty bad case of ‘I’d rather watch and feel myself be picked apart by vultures then go to school’ but he gets up and gets ready anyway.

“So are you going to push any more short kids in the hallways and steal their lunch money today Gerard?” Mikey asks, as they walk to school.

“No, Mikey, could you stop?”

“I don’t think so. You’re an ass, Gerard. You’re a bully.”

“Mikey I’m going to stop. I’m going to stop today.”

“Oh what are you going to do, go up to Lucas and Trevor and tell them to quit?”

“Yep, that was pretty much the plan. If you don’t see me at lunch it’s probably because they beat me unconscious and threw me in the dumpster,” Gerard answers.

Mikey looks at him a little alarmed, “Wait, you’re actually serious?”

“Yes, I’m actually serious.”

“That’s social suicide. And also probably suicide.”

“Well it’s the only way I’m going to start being a better person. I’ve put up with it for too long, Mikey. I don’t want to be this person anymore.”

“Well that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Mikey says, “but I’m proud of you bro.”

Frank, runs up to them at that and completely disregards Gerard’s existence when he walks side by side with Mikey.

Gerard pretends not to notice and hurries in front of them to get to school quickly. When he gets there his heart starts racing faster than is safe for a human heart.

He takes several long deep breaths before meeting Lucas and Trevor by their lockers, which are conveniently next to each other, and across the school from Gerard’s. This means he barely has time to get his books for first period before he confronts them.

Lucas barely looks up at him when he approaches and his hair looks especially grimy today, making Gerard wonder if he knows what showers are for. He smells like a used condom so Gerard also guesses that he didn’t sleep alone last night. Gerard tries not to be jealous of that fact.

“Hey man,” Lucas says, grabbing a paper from Trevor. Trevor’s IQ is still lower than the number of Baldwin brothers, so it takes his troll brain a minute to even realize Gerard’s there. Honestly, Trevor is so stupid he probably thinks the Constitution is a brand of soap.

“So,” Gerard says, and then he forgets what he was about to say because he’s terrified of their reactions. It’s such a horrible thing to be afraid of your ‘friends.’ People say you can’t have a toxic friendship but they don’t even realize just what that entails. Toxic friendships include peer pressure to do horrible things and make your life miserable which Gerard’s just so happens to be right now. Toxic friendships are just as real as toxic relationships, thank you very much.

“So...?” Lucas asks, looking up at him expectantly.

“Um I have something I would like to say,” he says and he almost can’t get the last words out because his vocal chords decide to cop out about halfway through.

“Hey look there’s that short kid,” Lucas says, and Gerard’s heart quickens, past the already deafening rate, when he sees Frank walk down the hall. 

Of course he has to walk down the hall while Gerard’s doing this! Of course! The universe fucking hates Gerard.

Trevor, being a few fries short of a happy meal, apparently didn’t get the memo that they weren’t hurting Frank anymore and thus decides it’s an appropriate time to slam the kid against a locker bay, out of nowhere.

“Hey, Stop!” Gerard says, and pulls Trevor away from Frank who looks unhurt but ticked off. Trevor glares at Gerard but doesn’t move because Lucas’ stare keeps him frozen. Frank looks at Gerard with a face almost like disgust.

“Relax, it’s just once for old time’s sake,” Lucas says, smiling.

Oh god, he’s going to have to do this in front of Frank. Well at least this way Frank will know he did what he asked.

“No,” Gerard says firmly, and he actually looks kind of confident despite the fact that he’s harrowing on the inside.

“Why?” Lucas ask, with annoyance.

“Because I said so,” Gerard answers.

“Who says I take rules from you, Gerard?” Good point, considering Lucas is the ring leader.

Gerard takes a deep breath, “This is going to stop Lucas.”

“Stop?” Lucas asks with a hint of amusement.

Gerard stands in front of Frank so that Lucas is directly in front of him and continues, “Yes. This is going to stop. This senseless bullying.”

Lucas laughs, “Is it now? Why?”

“Because I’m tired of being a bad person. What’s the point? Being unethical and cruel doesn’t improve anyone’s life. No one wins when you’re being mean! All you get is emptiness and hate, and I don’t want that anymore.”

“What do you want, Gerard? You want to be a fucking nerd? A goody-goody?”

“I want to be a moral human being! Someone who doesn’t hurt people for fun, because I don’t get it. What makes you so much better because you’re a bully?”

“Dominance. Respect,” Lucas answers.

“No Lucas, don’t mistake respect for infamy. No one likes you Lucas. Why should they? You’re a dickhead.”

Lucas scrunches his nose as if he smells something really nasty and narrows his eyes at Gerard, who is still standing in front of a very confused looking Frank.

“Is this your way of sticking up for yourself, Gerard? You’re not very good at it, you have to bring me down to make yourself feel better. Double standard much?”

“No, I don’t need to tear anyone down to know that I have worth. There’s two ways to form a dent in this world Lucas, and one of them is to build, the other is to destroy. I’m done destroying because it only ever hurts. Why would you ever hurt someone when the goal of living is to be happy? Why would you ever take away someone’s happiness when it doesn’t even benefit your own?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“It’s wrong, and it’s pointless!”

Lucas doesn’t say anything and just looks at Gerard for a long moment before turning to Trevor as if he expects him to do something. Trevor probably understood 6% of the words they just said.

“So what are you saying Gerard?”

“I’m saying you’re a mean person, Lucas. You’re mean, and all you ever do is instill fear and sadness, and I am done. I don’t want any part of that. I don’t want you near me, and I don’t want you to ever hurt anyone ever again.”

“What makes you think I’m going to stop?” Lucas taunts.

“I have no doubt that you’re going to keep being an asshole, but from here on in, I will not participate, and you can be damn sure I will defend anyone you try to harm. I just want you to know your place. I want you to know that no one likes you. Know that you’re the reason people go home at night and ask God for their own death. You, and everyone like you, are what makes this world so rotten, and I’m done with that.”

“You keep saying that Gerard,“ Lucas says raising his voice, “you keep saying that you’re done, and you think it’s that easy! You think you can just stop bullying and you’ll make friends for quitting, and you’ll be accepted by your peers because you’ve seen the holy light or some shit. We don’t live in a fantasy world, and it certainly doesn’t spin like that.”

“No Lucas, I was never under that impression. I’m restarting, sure, and in doing so I know I’ll be hated for my past, but I know that what I did was wrong, and I’m coming to grips with that. I don’t expect anyone to forgive me, and I wouldn’t want them to, I just know that it’s never going to get any better for me or anyone else unless I try. This is me admitting that I have done wrong, and this is me committing to never repeat that.”

Lucas says nothing than puckers his lips snootily. 

“Fine. If that’s what you want Gerard. If you’re making a promise, then I’ll make one too. I’ll promise you that the rest of your high school career, from today forward, is going to be hell. Have fun being the little wimp I always knew you were.”

“Thank you for the consideration,” Gerard answers.

Lucas walks away at that, and Trevor follows him like a lemming. 

Gerard had completely forgotten Frank was behind him until he speaks up to say, “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. You must be batshit crazy or huffed a little too much lens cleaner. You’re going to get disemboweled... or eviscerated, which is basically the same thing.”

“I’m glad you have such high faith in me,” Gerard answers.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t impressive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (There's still more to come, don't worry).


	14. Because, If Fall Out Boy Can Use Overly Long Names That Aren’t A Lyric in the Song, Then I Can Do The Same With A Chapter Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're both being idiots with padlocked tongues in more ways then one.

Frank has a little easier time forgiving Gerard after the display in the hallway. Not only did Gerard destroy his reputation with that little debacle but he also got three days detention, and Frank honestly wasn’t going to leave him in that mess with no one but his brother.

Gerard has to sit with them at their table because he has nowhere else to go but he fits in pretty well. It seems that they’re building up quite a crowd now with Pete and Patrick becoming permanent staples as well as Gerard. For Frank, six is a lot of friends. Including a Gerard, whatever he is. He doesn’t know what to call Gerard yet though because he’s a friend on parole, who’s also an unlikely but unavoidable possible love interest.

Pansy and Watchman are getting along just fine as well. A little better than fine. It’s been only two weeks into the new regime and Frank considers it the best period of his life so far. It’s barely been any time at all. Maybe it’s because Christmas is on their heels or maybe it’s because he’s a hopeless romantic but everything seems, for the moment, peaceful.

One particular conversation with Watchman leaves Frank practically dying of joy.

**Jersey-Watchman666: i just hope I don’t scerw up.**

**Jersey-Watchman666: Pansy?**

**Jersey-Watchman666: Where’d u go?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: sorry, I’m here._

_That_Pansy_Misfit: I just_

_That_Pansy_Misfit: oh never mind_

**Jersey-Watchman666: what?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: no its nothing_

**Jersey-Watchman666: tell me! Pwetty pwease wif a chewwy on top?**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: gaaah fine, ur annoyin_

**Jersey-Watchman666: yay! Spill it.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: Wut I want to say, what this really is_

_That_Pansy_Misfit: This makes me happy_

_That_Pansy_Misfit: You make me happy._

**Jersey-Watchman666: awww, I don’t know that there’s a better way to put it then the way you just did.**

**Jersey-Watchman666: You make me happy too.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: good. I’m glad._

**Jersey-Watchman666: I like you Pansy. I think youre the best friend I’ve ever had.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: jeeeeez, you need some btter friends_

**Jersey-Watchman666: tell me bout it. They all dirve me insane. my old frnds were super rude and were always expecting me to get high or drunk or whatever with em.**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: and what abot ur new friends?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: umm they’re really great. I’d never tell anyone this, specially my bro but they rock**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: whos the best?_

**Jersey-Watchman666: wut!? Im not gonna tell u**

_That_Pansy_Misfit: y not? It’s not like I know them._

They’re playing each other like harps at this point, and they don’t realize it.

**Jersey-Watchman666: im not going to tell; u his his name but its starts with an F.**

Frank smiles considerably at that. F for Frank. F isn’t for Pete, Patrick, Ray or Brendon. It’s for Frank. Gerard likes him. He likes him enough to tell Pansy he likes him. Frank decided to guess his own name after that and conveniently did not guess Frank because he never really wanted to stop talking with Gerard. 

School the next day would have been weird had they known the other person knew it was weird. Gerard thought it was weird seeing Frank after that, but he didn’t mind because he was seeing Frank and that made him smile. The same went with Frank.

Unfortunately this meant that they kept falling harder for each other. Watchman was falling more for Pansy, while Pansy was falling more for Watchman. Frank was falling more for Gerard, while Gerard was falling more for Frank. It became a vicious cycle, until they both knew they had to tell each other, but neither had the guts to actually do it.

Frank spends a lot more time at the Way household as a result of him and Mikey becoming better friends, and the fact that he lives so close really is pretty convenient. When he does hang out there a lot of the time it’s not just with Mikey but with the both of them. Gerard and Mikey actually are pretty close, especially considering they’re brothers.

“What made you decide not to hate me, Frank?” Gerard asks on a Monday night while Mikey’s busy getting himself a drink.

“I don’t know, actually. It made sense to, I guess.”

“But you do forgive me right? Like not just because you thought you had to?”

Frank rolls his eyes, “yes. I do forgive you. Honestly, you’re such a worrier.”

“Yeah I know, I just don’t like the idea of you hating me.”

“I still don’t understand why you care so much about my opinion,” Frank answers.

Gerard fumbles for a few moments and then sighs and says, “Because I don’t want my brother’s best friend hating me. I also don’t want someone as nice as you to hate me.”

“But what triggered the sudden change?” Frank presses.

That’s a tough question to answer without giving away too much, “It just sort of hit me that I was being a dick. I didn’t want to be that person anymore, and I started with you.”

“Well whatever the reason, I’m kind of glad you’re my friend, Gee. You add a lot of color into my life,” Frank says ruffling Gerard’s red hair.

On the outside they probably looked like they flirted with each other a lot, and the reason for that is because they flirt with each other a lot. They just don’t admit.

For whatever the reason, Gerard Way is no longer the bully with a soul but the loser with a soul and real friends. He’s not doing too well on the social front outside of his little group but he doesn’t let it bother him too much. Frank smiling at him seems to be a cure for just about anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't want to give anything away but the next chapter is one off my particular favorites. Also one of the more humorous ones if I do say so myself.  
> (Hint Hint it's called - "Step Five: Coming Clean")


	15. Step Five: Coming Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's exactly that you think is.

There’s really no way to look at someone and tell them you know their secret identity. It’s secret for a reason. There are so many ways they can react.

Let’s pretend for a moment that you’re Batman. Bruce Wayne goes by Batman for a reason, and that reason is so that no one knows who he really is. Bat Wayne, no, Bruce Man, Fuck, Batman, is just this normal guy prancing around his city with a cape and fighting crime. Without the mask, you wouldn’t be all that impressed. You wouldn’t be interested in the man behind the mask after they make their alter ego so interesting.

“Hey look it’s Ken from accounting fighting off a giant lizard in the break room,” just doesn’t have the same ring to it as, “look at that amazing superhero with the bitchin’ name saving lives!” Anonymity protects, and it reassures. 

So how do you go about walking up to your best friend’s brother, to tell him that you are kind of in love with him, and his online persona? In this situation Gerard would be Batman, though he’s a bit more attractive than several incarnations of the dark knight. How do you go up to Bruce Wayne and tell him you know he’s Batman?

Bruce might deny it.

He might reluctantly admit he is, and nod.

He might kick you in the nards and run away.

He might confirm it but then tell you he has to kill you because you know.

He might hug you and say he needs a friend.

He might retire the cape because you found out.

He might get angry and try to destroy your reputation.

He might ask you to come join him in fighting crime.

There’s a rainbow of different things Bruce might say. There’s an equal number of things Gerard might say. There are so many bad things he could do that Frank doesn’t know which the worst is anymore. Frank can’t even bare to think what will happen if Gerard turns him away after finding out. 

So what’s the key to telling Gerard? There isn’t one. Timing maybe?

Frank thinks about it, as he looks at himself in his bathroom mirror, that the time has finally come. He’s forgiven Gerard, and he’s really fallen for him, so he has no other choice if he ever want to make out with the guy.

Gerard has no idea when the right time is to drop that bomb either. It’s a huge bomb, it’s an Australia sized bomb. Well maybe more of a New Zealand sized bomb, but that’s still a big ass fucking bomb.

Frank makes a checklist as to when he should do it. He decides on a Thursday, because then Gerard will have a chance to think about it over the weekend, but he will also be able to give Frank a response on Friday. Then the question is before school, between classes, at lunch, at the end of the day, or on the walk home. Then there’s the format in which he does it, whether in speech, text, chat, or phone call. And he can say it in front of someone or alone, or in a public space with people walking around, or alone in like a closet. 

Frank sighs, and he goes through his final strategy again. It’s Thursday morning, so it’s going to be today, and he’s on fire. It’s his second to last day to say it before winter break though. Maybe it can be like a Christmas present or something? A really stupid one, but a present.

He does make a final plan though.

Thursday: school: at the end of the day: speech: alone: public area.

Over and over he runs through it. He probably looks like he’s being poked repeatedly with needles because his eyes are pretty wide throughout everything.

“You look like you were just informed that you swallowed a PlayStation,” Mikey says at lunch. He’s sitting right next to Gerard and when he smiles at Frank, he blushes and looks down. What is this guy doing to him? Every time he’s with Gerard nowadays it feels like he’s going to faint. He’s got it bad.

Gerard does too, but they just don’t know that.

“Something wrong?” Gerard asks.

“The Israeli Palestinian conflict. The third season of Glee. The patriarchy and its effect on the misogynistic view of women in society. The global financial crisis. Asparagus,” Frank answers. He doesn’t actually intend to be funny or anything he’s just got a lot of stupid stuff floating around in his mind.

“You’re right all of those things are wrong,” Gerard answers, with a toothy grin. He’s so perfect and sweet though, Frank doesn’t want to ruin the friendship they have. Maybe they’ll have a stronger friendship when he tells Gerard. Maybe Gerard will want to have a relationship. Wishful thinking but a boy can pray.

Ray and Mikey don’t seem to be bothered by Frank, who’s always a complete weirdo, but Gerard keeps looking at him with that cute little grin, and Brendon just looks like he’s concerned for Frank’s mental stability. And maybe he should be, Frank’s an oddball, you never know.

“You look like you’re trying to put on mascara,” Brendon eventually concludes.

“He does, a little bit,” Gerard says.

“You would know,” Mikey answers, referencing Gerard’s eyeliner.

Frank likes Gerard’s eyeliner. He’s got to stop staring at him now because Gerard’s staring back. Frank looks down at his hands in his lap to try and pretend he wasn’t gawking at Mikey’s older brother. 

He just wishes Gerard would stop doing that thing with his face where he’s attractive. It’s distracting. 

The face is so distracting that he almost gets a detention in English for not paying attention but thankfully he sits next to Brendon who knew Frank was drifting off and conveniently wrote down the answer to the question at hand.

“Thanks man,” Frank says.

“Do you think my helping you out earns me a bit of an explanation? What’s got you so unfocused?”

“I’ll tell you if it’s anything. It has the potential to be life changing, life ruining or life will just be the same.”

“Wow, vague,” Brendon sighs.

“Are you going to be over it by Friday? We’re hanging at Mikey’s remember?”

“What? Oh, yeah,” Frank answers. He’d almost forgotten that they were having a movie night on Friday. He has the chance to tell Gerard then too, but he decides that he’s set himself up so much today, that it’s too late now. It’s going to happen. 

Brendon doesn’t try to say anything else because he knows Frank’s not listening as he’s drifted back into his sleepless void.

He counts the minutes as they pass on the clock, and he doesn’t know whether he wants the hands to speed faster or slower. He wants to let it out, but he doesn’t want to change anything. 

Twenty minutes turns into ten. Ten minutes turns into five. His precious seconds pass him so fast that he’s positive someone must have tampered with the clock, but no one did.

The bell rings, and he walks out of the classroom, to his locker, out the school and to the spot where he meets Mikey and Gerard. 

He sees Gerard, and holy shit this is about to happen.

“Uh,” Is all Frank says in greeting to them. 

“And to you too,” Mikey says, looking at him with a laugh.

“Hey can I talk to you Gerard?” Oh god he just said those words out loud.

“Without me?” Mikey asks, mocking hurt.

“Yes, without you Mikey, you can go on ahead,” Frank answers.

Gerard looks alarmed by Frank’s insistence but he smiles, eager to know what Frank has to say.

Mikey rolls his eyes and then sets off slowly, and Frank doesn’t say anything until Mikey realizes Frank’s not going to say anything when Mikey’s within earshot. He quickens up after that and Frank then stares awkwardly at Gerard.

“What’s up, Frank?”

“The sky. Gas prices. Floating monkeys,” Frank answers, and then stares down at his own feet.

He gulps a few times, and then looks back at Gerard.

The wind in his bright red hair sweeps in his eyes slightly but steadily, blowing one way and it’s hypnotizing. Gerard’s eyes are almost golden in the light, and Frank doesn’t want to ruin any of this.

The only reason Gerard isn’t freaking out is because Frank looks really cute when he’s all anxious. He’s biting his lip, and the metal of the lip ring makes a quiet clink against his teeth. Frank’s a little paler than usual but Gerard just assumes it’s because of the cold.

“Okay so,” Frank starts and then trails off, “uhm...”

“Are you okay, Frankie?” 

Oh great call him Frankie and make him ten times more scared. Anyone else calling him Frankie kind of makes him want to rip out their tongue but the way Gerard says it... The way Gerard does a lot of things is strangely beautiful. Like the way he blinks. 

“Well, here’s the thing, I have to tell you something. More like admit something.”

That scares Gerard a little bit, but he just nods and looks down at Frank with concentration pure on his face.

Just go for it Frank. Just pull the Band-Aid off, and then it’ll be done.

Oh god, he can feel himself about to say it.

A croaking noise, followed by a nervous bleat, and Frank opens his mouth.

Even though his stomach is teasing him with the risk of puking, he doesn’t do that, but instead he blurts it out speedily and it’s extremely high pitched. 

“I’m Pansy, and I know you’re Watchman.”

Frank looks down at his shoes again, studying the laces which are a little frayed at the end, while Gerard kind of stands there with something far beyond shock.

He takes a deep breath and says the last thing Frank had though he would say.

“I know.”

Frank looks back up at Gerard and his eyes are wider than they were earlier so that they have the danger of falling right out of his skull.

“How do... what?” Frank asks.

“I’ve known for a few weeks. I didn’t know you knew.”

“I- you knew? I knew too! Well you know that. How can you possibly know? Tell me how you know,” Frank demands.

“Defenestrate stupid. Who else walks around threatening to toss people out of windows? How did you know?”

Frank feels like a dolt after Gerard says that. He never even considered that. What else had he said to Gerard that could have been incriminating?

“Frank, how do you know?” Gerard repeats, and he realizes he’s been quiet for a while.

“I, er, don’t get mad,” Frank asks, and Gerard nods, “you left your computer on when I was over.”

Gerard blushes a little bit and then laughs.

“Why are you laughing?” Frank asks.

“I’ve been so scared of telling you, because I didn’t know how you’d react, but I mean... you already know.”

“Me too!” Frank says, “I’ve been planning how to tell you for a week. I didn’t want to, like, lose you as a friend.”

Gerard shakes his head frantically, “no never! You’re way too amazing.”

Frank smiles at that, and giggles as well. It’s okay, everything is going to be alright.

When neither of them brings up the fact that they like each other as more than friends though, they both assume the other doesn’t. Gratefully the two of them walk across the field to their homes, too late to catch up with Mikey.

Frank’s chest which had felt like it had had fifty rubber bands tied around it, now feels like he has never been more relieved.

They’re both really giggly when they walk home, telling each other stories about how they’d wanted to tell the other.

“Gerard I just... I can’t believe it’s you, and now you’re not two different people anymore. You’re just Gee.”

“I know, same,” Gerard answers back smiling.

“Does this mean we can stop using that website and just be like friends?” Frank asks.

“I guess so. I mean Frank, you’re my best friend. Like honestly, you really are.”

“Don’t tell Mikey but you’re mine too. Well Watchman was, but Watchman is you so that makes you my best friend.”

“You’re not disappointed by him being me?” Gerard asks sheepishly.

“What? No! Why? Are you disappointed in me being Pansy?”

“No, definitely not! Sorry I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything, I just thought you’d be upset that I’m not as perfect as I tried to be online.”

“I don’t think you really had to try,” Frank says, and he blushes profusely at that. He notices they’re in front of his house and he’s supposed to say bye to Gerard now, but he doesn’t know that he wants to. However much he wants to go hangout at the Way’s though he has homework to do that he can’t put off.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Gee,” he says downheartedly.

“Okay, bye Frank. I guess we’ll see each other a lot tomorrow, wont we?” Gerard responds, and Frank suddenly feels very hppy about the fact that he’s staying over at their house tomorrow.

“Yeah, I look forward to it,” Frank answers honestly as he walks up the driveway, and waves back at Gerard from his front door.

He enters the house a little light headed, and collapses on his bed in a very happy mood.

“I am so going to marry that boy someday,” he whispers to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter might include some making out. It could just as easily include a major apocalypse, a dolphin attack or a blimp ride so you can't necessarily trust me.


	16. It’s a Love/Hate Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, how the mighty fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I am a little disappointed that no one noticed my Holy Musical B@man reference in that last chapter, I am still glad you liked it.

“Can I just speak for like a minute and a half without you interrupting me Gerard!”

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was the one being rude here. Maybe I was mistaken when you started lecturing me about my fucking past, Frank! I’ve said sorry a hundred times, and you’ve forgiven me. You literally forgave me, like three weeks ago, but now you’re taking it back and you’re throwing it at me like I don’t already feel like shit!”

“Would. You. Let. Me. Speak!” Frank screams. They’ve been yelling at each other for only about ten minutes but it feels like more since there’s no one else in the eerily quiet house, after Mikey and Brendon went to go get pizza. Frank had stayed behind because he wanted to see more of Gerard, and he had not at all intended to get into a screaming match with him. He can’t even remember how it started all he knows is that somehow or another he brought up Gerard’s bullying days, and it all went downhill from there. They’ve known each other’s identities for no more than a day and they already want to throw giant blimps at each other.

“I tried to let you talk, but you kept insulting me,” Gerard yells back. They’re still standing right in front of the door where they were when Mikey left, about three feet away from each other. Whatever started it all apparently happened right after he and Brendon left.

“You don’t exactly make it very difficult do you Gerard? It’s not like it’s unjustified.”

“See! There you go again with the guilt shit. If you’re going to make the decision to forgive me, than you have to actually stick to it. Otherwise take it back, and leave my apology hanging.”

“No. I will not! I’m trying to be a big person here, and forgive you but-“

“But you keep bringing it up! That’s not forgiveness Frank, that’s called being an asshole.”

“Well I never made any remarks to suggest that I’m not an asshole.”

“Good because you’re really fucking good at it. You’re rude, and you’re a jerk, and you’re a liar who doesn’t stay true to his word!” Gerard says, stepping close to Frank so that the taller boy is only inches from Frank’s face. They’re both scarlet in the face from their shouting match.

“You’re one to talk! You care way too much about status! You’re careless and irresponsible. You never think twice before doing something and it always ends up blowing to bits in your face, because you don’t fucking think about the consequences! You’re too cynical and... and, you know what else? You’re bossy! You always have to have everything go your way, or no way at all.”

Gerard stumbles, with his eyebrows creased together in rage over Frank, but he can’t think of a retort so he just opens his mouth and closes it, then again and again, so that he looks like a frog trying to catch flies.

“See you can’t even deny any of that shit!” Frank says looking furious but triumphant.

“Yeah? Well...” Gerard staggers for words again, “You know what, Frank? Fuck you!”

Frank’s mouth gapes with cold hate and he replies, “Fuck you too Gerard!”

“Good. Well then,” Gerard says, looking down at Frank who’s still only inches away.

“Well,” Frank repeats still looking mad, with his forehead crinkled and he repeats, “Fuck you, Gerard.”

“Fuck you, Frank.”

They stand there for another few seconds, before their instincts take over. Neither one of them can really stop what happens next as Frank grabs Gerard’s shoulders pulling him down, and Gerard grabs Frank by the sides of his head, and they start angrily kissing. They’re mouths move rhythmically along with each other as if all they’ve ever needed was to kiss the other, and it feels absolutely fucking amazing on both ends.

It’s kind of weird really. They both want to rip each other’s throats out but they’re making out instead. In no time Gerard hungrily slips his tongue into Frank’s mouth who does the same to Gerard, and for what feels like a century per minute, they just kind of stand there.

Eventually the need to breathe does get in the way, and Frank is the first to pull away, looking mystified at what’s just happened. He doesn’t look up at Gerard, though, both of them still have their arms wrapped around each other where they’d been a minute ago.

Gerard is the first to speak, “I’ve wanted to do that for like a year.”

“Same,” Frank answers, but they don’t stop to look at each other for very long because he crashes his lips back into Gerard’s.

There’s really no way to justify how great the kiss is for both of them. It’s not as feverish this time around, as the immediate need is gone, but it’s much more passionate. Frank’s been dreaming about kissing Watchman for months and he’s in disbelief by the fact that he’s doing just that right now, and it’s Gerard. And he’s a really good kisser. 

Gerard is just happy to be this close to Frank. It’s been killing him for weeks because he’d thought Frank didn’t know and all he wanted to do was to just hold him. Frank is really sexy and it’s been hard not to just come clean but now that they both know who each other are as well as the fact that they both like each other, there’s nothing stopping them.

The anger that was there a minute ago, all but disappears, because nothing really matters right now but their lips on each other’s.

“If I had been given multiple choice answers that had different situations for what was happening behind this door when I opened it, I would have guessed anything but that,” Mikey’s voice says from the door, making the two pull apart immediately and turn the reddest shade of red to have ever red. Gerard matches his hair, which is an amusing sight.

“Did you see that coming?” Mikey asks Brendon with an odd expression that’s a mix of incredulousness, disgust and amusement.

“Nope,” Brendon says, his face a mask of uncomfortable and interest.

“I swear nothing... I mean..?” Gerard tries but he can’t think of anything that would reassure Mikey.

“If that’s what you call nothing, then I’m terrified to see what you call something. ‘Oh nothing, just sticking my tongue down my brother’s best friend’s throat. No biggie.’ My god Gerard, you are such a pervert,” Mikey says walking around them to the kitchen with the pizza boxes in hand. Brendon follows trying to suppress a laugh.

“We- that was...” Frank tries but finds it just as difficult as Gerard had to come up with an excuse.

“I mean I’m a little annoyed that you didn’t at least tell me you were dating,” Mikey says nonchalantly as he grabs a slice of pizza.

“We’re not!” They say simultaneously.

Brendon laughs out loud to that and says, “once again we’re brought back to the fact that you’re version of nothing, compared to ours, is a little twisted.”

“We-,” Gerard says looking to Frank who shrugs, “it was a spur of the moment thing, okay? Like it wasn’t planned.”

“Spur of the moment? Are you saying it’s never going to happen again?” Mikey asks biting into his pizza.

“Oh no that’ll definitely happen again. Trust me,” Frank says bluntly and surely, shaking off his embarrassment a little quicker than Gerard, who stands there still looking completely mortified.

“Okay then,” Mikey says casually as Frank grabs a plate and helps himself to food, “are you going to stand there looking like you just pissed yourself, or do you want dinner?”

He looks a little ruffled for a few seconds more and Frank sets his plate down to smile broadly at him before Gerard throws his arms up in defeat.

“Oh fuck it,” he sighs, and walks over to the small boy, but instead of getting himself food he pushes Frank against the counter and kisses him again eagerly, which Frank is not about to protest to.

“Oh god. Yuck. No! I’m okay with it, but that does not mean I want to see it, especially while I’m eating!” Mikey says with a mouth, half full.

“Sorry,” Frank says, turning around but allowing Gerard to wrap his arm around his waist, “he started it.”

“I am a little confused as to when this happened,” Mikey says squinting his eyes, “I mean I wasn’t even positive Frank was gay.”

“Positive? You mean you already thought I was gay?”

“No Frank of course I did’t think you were gay,” Mikey says oozing sarcasm, “when you said ‘that line is as straight as I am’ I totally pegged you as a straight guy. Jeez Frank, I’m not an idiot. Patrick and I kind of figured it out.”

“Patrick? Wait so everyone knows?” Frank asks.

“Okay, like, four people know. Not everyone. How did this start though?” Mikey asks enunciating each word to make himself sound condescending. 

“Yeah, well um,” Gerard says trying to find words, “Mikey... meet Pansy.”

Mikey’s eyes widen, and Brendon looks completely lost.

“You’re kidding me!” Mikey says, “Really? This whole time, Frank?”

Frank nods meekly, a little surprised to find out Gerard told his brother about Pansy.

“I’m sorry what?” Brendon asks.

“My brothers been flirting with this guy called Pansy online for like a year now. Guess who the little fucker turned out to be!”

“You told him about me? Or Pansy, I mean,” Frank asks.

“No. I didn’t tell him a thing, but being the nosy bastard he is, Mikey decided to read over my shoulder a few times,” Gerard says finally grabbing some pizza for himself.

“I’m not nosy! I’m just curious. Plus it’s not like it was hard to figure out something was up. Ever since Pan- or I mean Frank I guess, he’s been smiling too much. It’s really quite gruesome if you ask me, I don’t like seeing him in any state other than miserable.”

Gerard smiles and flips him off.

“Does this make you two a couple then?” Brendon asks.

Frank turns red again and Gerard shrugs.

“Whoops, maybe I shouldn’t have asked,” he says.

Frank looks at Gerard with eyes, wordlessly saying ‘well? What do you think?’

Gerard’s glare back says something along the lines of ‘bitch please.’

“Well what the hell does that mean?” Frank thinks, and then realizes he said it out loud.

“I mean there’s no way we’re not doing that again, like you said,” Gerard answers, knowing what his question was regarding. Mikey and Brendon look weirded out that they had just read each other’s minds.

“Yeah, but does that mean you want slap a label on it?”

“I don’t really want to call you ‘that guy I talked to online for almost a year, and it turns out he was my brothers best friend, but he hated me for a while and then we made out that one time in the foyer’ because it seems so informal.”

Frank tries to repress a smile but ends up snorting, not so eloquently.

“Alright fine then,” Frank answers, and he turns his attention to Brendon, “yes we are dating.”

Mikey scrunches his nose, “Ew. How could anyone ever be attracted to my brother?”

“Everyone is gay nowadays!” Brendon says exasperatedly, “are there any straight guys in this whole town?”

“Thanks for the recognition, inhuman looking,” Mikey says monotonously.

“What about you Brendon, you didn’t include yourself there?” Gerard asks.

“Whoever said I wasn’t a little bit bendy?” Brendon shrugs, and when he doesn’t expand on the subject Frank is almost at a loss for words.

“It’s that kid in Jazz band who wears a lot of scarves and looks like the fifth member of the Beatles isn’t it?” Mikey finally asks.

They go on to try and tease the information out of Brendon for a little while, with Gerard staring almost unwaveringly at Frank, making him blush constantly. When Mikey’s and Gerard’s parents get home, they all go down stairs and for the first time ever, but certainly not the last, Frank holds Gerard’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick poll: I’m thinking our little Frankie is a bottom. Gerard seems like a top, but what do you think? Your input will probably be used further on in the story so speak now or forever hold your peace.


	17. Tell Me More, Tell Me More (They Didn’t Get Very Far)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware: Mass amounts of fluff.

“I just kind of want to talk to you all the time,” Gerard says.

“I know. I already know all there is to know about you from online, but I feel like I need more,” Frank answers.

“Well ask me anything, then,” Gerard answers.

Frank shivers and looks at him, with concentration. He and Gerard are sitting outside in the cold winter weather wearing only thin layered jackets. The bench behind the Way house is freezing, and Gerard may or may not have frozen his ass to it, but it’s worth it, because Frank is perfect.

The night is already dark but they had to go outside because Brendon and Mikey wanted to watch a movie, while the two of them just wanted to talk.

“Is your hair the same color as Mikey’s?” Frank asks.

“A little darker, but it’s close. Why?,” Gerard replies.

“Just wondering. What’s your favorite memory?”

Gerard thinks for a long time, before saying, “Well... that’s a pretty big question, I have a lot of memories.”

“Pick one.”

“Um, I saw a marching band once, that was cool.”

Frank spends a while thinking up another question until he finally says, “What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m thinking... that I want to kiss you,” Gerard says, and he looks at Frank cheekily. Frank smiles and leans into kiss him. Gerard’s breath is misty and white in the frozen air, like steam. And Frank can feel it against his jaw as the only source of warmth in the cold.

“I cannot believe I am kissing Watchman,” Frank giggles.

“I hear he’s cuter in person,” Gerard whispers back, pulling away to look into Frank’s eyes.

“Meh, he’s alright.”

“Well I happen to know for a fact that he thinks Pansy is pretty adorable,” Gerard answers.

Frank smiles back and then shakes when a gush of wind sends a colder chill into the air, but Gerard seems unfazed and keeps looking at Frank.

“You know what I mean, how this is surreal? Like I can’t believe we’re together?” Frank exclaims.

“Yeah, it does feel kind of fantastic. I’m not going to question it though.”

“Neither am I, as long as you don’t mind that I keep pinching myself.”

The glass sliding door opens behind them and Mikey pops his head out to look at their hunched together bodies, “did you guys know that it’s fucking cold out here?”

“Really, Mikes?” Gerard says raising an eyebrow, “and here I was thinking it was summer.”

“If that’s going to be your attitude then I will lock you out,” Mikey says warningly.

“What do you want, anyway?” Frank asks.

“Brendon asked me to check and see if you two were sucking face, and as long as you promise not to, then you can come back in,” Mikey responds.

“We came out here of our own free will, you didn’t kick us out,” Gerard corrects him, “and we can come back in any time we like.”

“Not if I lock you out, you can’t.”

Gerard eyes him evilly, “if you do that, then I will come into your room very late at night and destroy something you love.”

Mikey rolls his eyes, “just get back in here, it’s freezing, and I do not want to blow dry your fingers apart.”

Frank doesn’t think too hard about it before standing up, and he walks towards the door. His legs are stiff because they’re practically frosted over, and his nose could win a Rudolph lookalike contest, but other than that he’s okay.

Gerard walks in behind him and brushes snow off his head like dandruff because his jacket didn’t have a hood.

“You two snog long enough yet?” Brendon asks, not looking up from his seat on the couch. The movie they were watching is paused so he looks kind of stupid just lying there staring at the screen.

“It’s cold out there, we’d have frozen to each other,” Gerard yells back.

“I wouldn’t have minded that,” Frank answers.

Mikey pulls the door shut after them and looks at Frank with a face like repulsion, as he wrinkles up his nose.

“We’re going to go upstairs,” Gerard says and he takes Frank’s hand and pulls him toward the staircase.

“You know mom and dad are home, keep it quiet,” Mikey says.

“We weren’t going to do that,” Gerard assures him, “I just wanted to show Frank my room.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Brendon hollers suspiciously.

Frank’s eyes widen a little bit and his cheeks feel warm so he says, “Seriously, jeez! You guys are the worst.”

Mikey rolls his eyes and walks back over to the couch, with a resigned huff, and Gerard drags Frank up the stairs two at a time.

When he’s sure they’re gone, Mikey looks over to Brendon and says, “I’ll bet you ten bucks that they do it.”

Brendon weighs the odds for a second, “No way are they going to with us only a floor away. You’re on, man.”

Gerard final gets him all the way up the stairs and then closes the door to his bedroom behind him, and peers over at Frank standing awkwardly near his desk.

The last time Frank was in here was when he snooped around to find out that Gerard was Watchman.

“It’s a lot warmer in here, why didn’t we just come up here in the first place?” Gerard asks.

“Because you said you liked looking at the stars,” Frank answers.

“What stars? Who am I kidding, we live in New Jersey! The only stars in this state are found in bowls of cereal and Nintendo games.”

“I think it was an excuse to put your arm around me,” Frank shrugs. Gerard chuckles at Frank’s statement, not knowing he was really that transparent.

“I’m not sure I want to use an excuse this time,” Gerard answers and he walks over to Frank. He doesn’t put his arm around him, but rather both hands on either side of his face.

“Would it be overly cliché to tell you you’re beautiful?” Gerard asks.

“Overly cliché? Probably, but I was thinking the same about you so I’ll let it slide if you do,” he answers.

Gerard doesn’t give a response, instead he pulls Frank up slightly, and ducks down a little himself to kiss him. Frank is awfully short when he stands next to Gerard, but he doesn’t mind it all that much.

He laughs under Frank’s lips all the same, making him pull away questioningly.

“You’re short,” he says, batting his eyelashes so that Frank will know he’s goofing around.

“Well then let’s sit down.”

Franks pulls himself away from Gerard, and waits for him to move. Eventually the redhead figures out that Frank’s waiting for a signal to move, so he walks over and sits on the edge of his bed, then scoots back.

Gerard’s bed is propped against the wall so that you can sit against it, with your feet out, so Frank mimics Gerard’s position, and puts his head on Gerard’s shoulder.

“I bet Mikey things we’re having sex,” Frank sighs, making Gerard snort out a laugh.

“Probably does,” Gerard answers.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Frank asks. The holiday is only a few short days away now, and he’d forgotten to ask.

“Nothing, really. Staying in. What are you doing?”

“Same pretty much. Christmas’ are kind of weird because go I with my mom to my aunt’s house for lunch, and then to my grandma’s, with my dad, for dinner.”

“You get shepherded around on Christmas of all days?”

“That’s what happens when you’re parents aren’t together. They have to compromise. It’s a good thing that both sides of the family are in the state, only a few minutes away from each other, because if not then it would be much harder.”

“We should hang out on Christmas. I want to see you Frankie.”

Frank smiles but doesn’t move his head from Gerard’s shoulder.

“If I sneak out after we get back from my Grandma’s then I can come over here at about ten?” He suggests.

“I’d like that,” Gerard answers, and he kisses the tops of Frank’s head.

“It’s a deal then,” he answers.

The two of them talk for a little while longer until they’re eyelids begin to droop, and their lulled to sleep by the sound of the little internal creaks in the house. Everyone’s house has an occasional rasp now and then, but when his body is pressed against Gerard’s, Frank honestly couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his heartbeat.

He’s falling in love too fast, they both are, but the view is amazing, so he’s content with gliding along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **ALERT: I am currently in the pre-production (so to speak) of a Frerard series, but I am in dire need of a coauthor because it’s kind of a big task to take on alone. I ONLY want serious applicants, who will be dedicated, so you have to be serious about this as kind of a commitment. The series won’t be nearly as hasty or quickly updated as this story, and it will be almost like a TV show.  
> **Update: Position Currently Filled


	18. Revelations at Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank is given compensation.

“I bet you have a beautiful girlfriend at home, don’t you Frankie?” His grandma asks.

“Yeah that’s never going to happen,” he says breathily, trying to cover a laugh.

“Oh don’t say that, you’re a handsome young man,” she answers. 

Frank readjusts himself on the seventy year old couch in the eighty year olds living room. Frank’s not exactly the youngest person here but he’s trying not to count the screaming toddler in the other room. Christmas is for family but his family is annoying, both sides of it, especially his dad’s family, who happen to be a bit homophobic.

“I never said I wasn’t,” Frank replies, a little arrogantly.

His grandma looks at him with confusion so Frank just smirks, and his father rolls his eyes at him.

Frank sits on that same couch for what is surely several years, but more accurately a few hours, until his father finally says they can leave. It’s almost nine, and all he can think about is Gerard. They’d insisted they weren’t going to get each other gifts but Frank really couldn’t help himself. When people say not to get them a present, they of course mean to get them a present. Reading between the lines is vital. ‘Don’t get me a present’ = ‘get me a present or I will throw a bookshelf at you.’

“You almost gave your grandmother a heart attack back there,” his father says, and Frank looks up from the window to peer questioningly at him.

“How so?”

He doesn’t respond but the look in his eyes says it all.

“Wait you know I’m gay?” Frank asks.

“It wasn’t tough to figure out, but I wasn’t going to bring it up until you felt like saying it,” he responds.

“Am I really that obvious? Everyone seems to know!” Frank says looking frustrated.

“Well you’re not straight, that’s for sure, but that just leaves the question of whether you’re gay or something in between.”

“Well if you know than I guess I should also tell you I have a boyfriend,” Frank sighs, but this information seems to catch his dad off his guard a little more.

“Really? Is it that Way boy?”

“It’s his brother,” Frank answers, “and I think I’m in love with him.”

That is definitely new information to his dad who almost loses his grip on the wheel to look at his son, who’s staring out the window.

“Are you sure... I mean how long have you known him?”

Frank debates how to answer that question, “Well, we’ve been dating for a little under four days, but I’ve talked to him for a little over three weeks. I’ve known him for a little over three months, but I’ve been in love with him for a little under a year.”

“Wh... what?”

He grins at his dad’s confused expression and explains the situation with Watchman and Theodore and Gerard. For some reason it feels really great to tell him, to just say it out loud. 

“Okay,” his dad says, as they pull into the driveway at last, and he looks like he’s trying to digest all of Frank’s words but it’s not that easy.

“Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

Frank smiles, “Yeah, I’m going to go see him in a few minutes to give him his Christmas present.”

“But it’s Christmas,” his father says, “You shouldn’t disturb his family.”

“He invited me. And besides I’m going, and you’re not stopping me,” Frank answers and he runs quickly into the house to fix himself and grab Gerard’s gift. He checks his reflection in the mirror before deciding he doesn’t really care and then walks back out of the house, waving a goodbye to his dad.

He practically skips down the street, wanting only to see Gerard and to be held by him. 

He walks behind the house, and through the backyard, he knocks on the glass sliding door like Gerard had told him. The curtains are drawn so he can’t see into the house, but a redheaded person peaks out of the corner and Frank smiles at him.

“You came!” Gerard says excitedly, pulling the door open and grabbing Frank into his arms.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know but it’s cold, get in here,” Gerard pulls Frank through the door and closes it behind him.

“How was your Christmas?” Frank asks.

“Fine. Mikey ate too much and fell asleep like an hour ago, and my parents went to their friend’s house for a Christmas party or something, so I’ve been bored as hell until you got here! How was yours?”

“Well it turns out my dad knows I’m gay,” Frank answers, and Gerard reacts properly with shock, “apparently I’m a flaming homosexual and never realized it.”

“I didn’t know, until I knew you were Pansy! My gaydar needs polishing,” he sighs, and then spots the present in Frank’s hand, “oh god, I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who completely disregarded the whole no present thing.”

“It’s public knowledge that when someone says not to get them a gift, you get them a gift. Common courtesy.”

Gerard smiles, and grabs a thin package from the poker table that he’d set down there.

“Okay same time, then?” Gerard asks, after they exchange them.

“Fine, but it’s not much,” Frank says.

“Wow today is filled with clichés isn’t it?” Gerard answers. He smiles and walks over to sit on the large sectional and Frank goes to sit next to him.

He eagerly counts down from the number three like a puppy. A puppy with pillar-box red hair.

Franks rolls his eyes and pulls out a framed picture of... himself. It’s a drawing, but it’s amazing. The damn thing is practically a photograph. All he’d gotten Gerard was CD that he’d said he’d been dying to own.

“Oh my god Frankie!” Gerard says looking ecstatic.

“Wow Gee, this is amazing,” Frank says gawking at the picture.

“But I didn’t get you as much, I feel awful!” Gerard says, and he looks honestly upset.

“I’m not mad though! You made up in effort what I spent in cash, so we’re even!” Frank replies.

“No we’re not, I should get you something else, or... I don’t know, just more,” Gerard answers.

“Well I decline the offer, because being here with you is enough of a gift to me.”

“That was so cheesy that I want to rip my leg off,” Gerard answers, but he smiles anyway.

Frank pouts at his answer with fake hurt, making Gerard laugh and then pull Frank in, to kiss him impatiently.

“I’ve missed you so much, Gee,” Frank says almost inaudibly.

“Shut up,” Gerard says and he becomes a little less gentle, but it only makes the kiss a million times better. He doesn’t argue with Gerard’s instructions and feels his stomach writhing with nervous energy, because of the perfection of his situation. There is literally no place in the world Frank would rather be right now.

Gerard puts his hand on Frank’s neck and the very touch feels like fire itself, but instead of burning him as he knows it should, it just feels like bliss.

“Frankie, how can I make it up to you?” Gerard says, and he starts kissing down Frank’s neck which makes him melt, like an ice cream cone in summer.

“You-ohh,” he tries to answer but his words are forgotten at the feeling of Gerard’s tongue on his collarbone.

“I didn’t catch that?” Gerard says cheekily.

“Don’t n-need to,” he musters out, but his head falls back against the couch and he hears Gerard giggle.

“I can try,” and with that Gerard pushes Frank against the couch onto his back and climbs on top of the smaller boy, to kiss him again.

“Oh god... Gee!” Frank says nervously at Gerard’s added weight, “what are we doing?”

“I’m not sure,” he answers.

Frank’s breathing hitches when Gerard’s hand nudges at the bottom of his shirt, and he’s not at all sure what his emotions are trying to tell him at the moment.

“Frank, I hope you don’t think I’m pressuring you. I mean if you don’t want-“

“But what if I do ‘want’?” Frank asks with an innocent expression but what he’s implying is far from innocent.

Gerard hadn’t been expecting that answer and blushes, “Okay then.”

He’s not going to turn Frank down not when he’s fantasized about him for so long. And it doesn’t help that Gerard’s pants are doing little to hide the fact that he’s very into this situation.

Frank grins and his lips fall back to connect with Gerard’s like puzzle pieces finally finding their right mates.

“Only if you want to,” Frank mumbles against Gerard Bottom lip.

“Definitely,” he says and his hand creep further up Frank stomach, under his shirt, as he continues to kiss him. 

He sighs and then looks down at Frank nervously.

“Frankie, I’ve never... never ever,” Gerard says with embarrassment.

Frank looks down at him and admits, “Neither have I. But-“

“But?”

Frank rolls his eyes, “buuuuut, I, well... I mean the internet is there for a reason isn’t it!” He’s going to kill Pete for making him google it.

It’s Franks turn to blush but Gerard doesn’t laugh long before attacking Frank’s neck again, and he fists his dark hair so that he can’t move away from the kiss if the thought had even occurred to him, which it most definitely has not.

Frank unconsciously moans from beneath Gerard which makes his heart flutter lightly. He cannot believe he’s actually kissing Gerard right now. He’s got his freaking tongue in Gerard’s mouth, and he’s one hundred percent sure Gerard is down with the situation in the same way Gerard can probably tell Frank is.

Gerard tastes like coffee, and gum. Fruity gum, oddly, but it’s not unpleasant, it’s just sort of a weird taste. 

He hadn’t planned on Christmas taking this turn of events... sorry Jesus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I'm sorry for being such a tease this will be continued where it left off.
> 
> Also a little disclaimer: I'm sorry if I totally messed up the way Christmas is supposed to be celebrated or something because I participate in a particularly non-religious atheist hoedown (credit to the love of my life, Dan Howell, for that term) every year.


	19. Not like the Pornos but No Less Pleasurable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longer wait because I wanted to get this just right. And who am I kidding, you all know what 'this' is.

The thought occurs to Frank that his best friend is a floor and half away from them right now, and this is what makes him pull his face away from Gerard’s just for a moment to voice his concern.

“What’s wrong?” Gerard asks, and he looks genuinely worried.

“It’s just... Mikey’s only a few floors away.”

Gerard shrugs, “I don’t care about him, though. Not right now.”

The corner of Frank’s mouth turns up slightly and he finds it hard to remember how on earth this could possibly be a bad idea.

“Yeah, fuck it, I don’t care,” Frank says, and he allows Gerard to pull his incredibly festive, solid black shirt over his head. Gerard’s not all that festive either though, unless you count the hair. 

When Gerard continues to dwell on a particular patch of Frank’s neck he sighs softly at the feeling. There is no way anyone should be that good with their tongue but Gerard’s checked ‘godly’ of his things to do today.

Frank giggles uncontrollably when Gerard tickles a spot on his neck which makes Gerard look up and smile at him like he’s just seen a baby panda.

“You’re so adorable,” He says, laughing, and Frank giggles again, very high pitched and girly. He’s got such a pot laugh sometimes.

One thing people like to forget about with sex is that it’s not always this fairy-tale thing, but it feels that way. It can be completely weird or awkward but feel heated at the time. You have to be able to laugh, as well.

He rolls his eyes at Frank’s response and makes work with trying to pull his own shirt off, which Frank is all too keen to help him with. Gerard’s much paler than Frank but he doesn’t have time to look at him, because he ducks his head down to lightly trail down Frank’s jaw, neck, and chest.

Frank closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to think about the embarrassing faces he’s probably making. He’s aware of Gerard hovering somewhere around his navel but doesn’t think too much about this until he feels a hand on his thighs and squeaks a little.

His own hand slaps against his face so that Gerard can’t see the scarlet color he turned, but Gerard barely registers it because he’s having trouble thinking about anything at all right now. Maybe it’s the fact that his blood flow is not aimed at his brain right now instead targeting a little south of there, or maybe it’s because his boyfriends half naked in his basement. Either way it’s a new development for the both of them.

“God,” Frank whispers when the hand starts scribbling patterns along the thigh of his jeans, which are so much thicker than he would like for them to be. If he’d worn thinner pants he’d be able to feel the full extent of Gerard’s touch, but at the same time if he’d worn something with a little less give to them, then it wouldn’t be so hard to hide his fucking boner. 

“Frankie can I-“

“Yes,” Frank answers, not bothering to hear the end of his sentence. Whatever Gerard wants he can have at this point.

Gerard snickers and decides to just go for it then, making quick work of the zipper on Frank’s pants, and he should not be as turned on by Frank’s Avengers boxers, but his head is in the gutter and there’s no turning back from his impurity.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he murmurs to himself, quiet enough that he doesn’t think Frank heard. 

It’s no matter though because he’s fueled by a cup of coffee, a day’s worth of yearning, and teenage hormones. In an effort to make Frank feel a little less awkward, Gerard takes his own pants off so they’re even, in a way, but Frank doesn’t really notice, because his eyes are practically deadlocked shut. Someone might have super glued his eyelids down and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Gerard’s almost falling off the couch because he doesn’t want to knee Frank or anything so he’s completely to the left of Frank and slipping. He readjust himself and pulls Frank’s legs open to make room for himself in between them. Porn is not this awkward, he’s sure, but then again porn stars are not paid for believability, but rather for their perseverance, it seems. In no way will his ego go untarnished, but Gerard hopes that doesn’t matter too much, considering he’s blatantly inexperienced. It’s not like either of them have anything to compare this too.

With this knowledge calming Gerard down slightly, he asks Frank’s permission to slip down the last item of clothing, and this is what makes Frank finally blink his eyes open.

Why is Gerard so freaking cute? There’s no way he could say no to that face, even if he wanted to! Gerard could literally get away with a double assassination and armed robbery by batting his eyelashes a few times.

Frank opens his mouth, but nope, that’s not going to happen, because his vocal chords climbed out of his body a few minutes ago to take a Hawaiian vacation, so he just nods.

And there goes his only shelter, no hiding now. There’s no time he’s ever felt more self-aware in his life and he kind tries to take in breaths when they come, but his airways are blocked. He guesses that maybe his esophagus is lounging out with his vocal chords on the beach, because he is completely void of air for a good minute or two.

It’s not warm in Gerard’s basement, but it’s not all that cold, it’s a really nice neutrality actually, but it suddenly feels freezing because Frank’s completely exposed. His body is sandpaper because of the number of goose bumps now engulfing it.

“Frank, are you okay?” Gerard asks, when he hears Frank’s breath hitch, painfully.

Oh god, now he has to try to speak. 

Not going to happen. Frank connects his thumb with his pointer finger in a gesture meaning ‘okay’ and he hopes this answer is good enough for Gerard.

It seems to be because Gerard crawls back up Frank’s body and stops in a straddle position, to look down at Frank from a few inches above his head.

“Hey Frankie,” he says, prodding Frank’s temple to brush some hair away from his face.

“Dremph,” is his response, which is not a word, and he dies a bit inside at hearing his own sound.

Gerard smiles and pecks Frank on the lips lightly to hopefully calm him down a little bit, but he ends up completely making out with Frank. It’s not his fault that Frank is the best kisser in the world. 

“I’m suddenly very aware that you’re naked,” Gerard says.

Still no words. Frank hopes his vocal chords have a Piña colada for him, because they’re obviously not coming back anytime soon.

Gerard grabs Frank’s wrist lightly in his own and whispers into Frank’s ear, “show me what you want me to do.”

Okay, that didn’t just make Frank ten times hornier.

Oh he’s supposed to do something now. Gerard’s looking at Frank expectantly, and a little timidly but it’s really sexy on him in a way it shouldn’t be.

“Please Frankie?” Gerard asks, and that’s convincing enough for Frank to take Gerard’s hand and link his finger over the top of it, kind of awkwardly. His hand feels alien in this position, because Frank’s palm is to the back of Gerard’s hand.

Gerard eyes him innocently as Frank steers Gerard’s hand across his chest, stomach and then a bit lower but he can feel the older boy’s hesitancy.

“Gee,” Frank groans, he has one a mighty victory with that one syllable finally coming out of his mouth, “just... touch me.”

He nods a little vacantly and then a very foreign feeling sidles around Frank as Gerard brushes against his erection. Gerard’s the first person, besides himself, to ever touch him there, but he’s actually quite glad about that. He takes a sharp gasp at the contact and puts a hand on Gerard’s shoulder carefully. His other hand is on Gerard’s hip, and he’s probably digging his nails into the pale skin but he’s a bit too preoccupied to notice.

Gerard blinks a few times and looks down at Frank carefully before once again stroking down Frank’s length, a little less nervously this time. Frank just nods in encouragement, and then lets his head fall when Gerard starts to kiss his neck again. Frank’s sweating slightly because of Gerard’s body heat, but the latter doesn’t seem to mind.

Time seems to slip by for a few seconds because the next thing Frank knows is that his legs are around Gerard shoulder’s with his hands brushing along his thighs, and Frank’s not sure that he’s ever been more nervous, and excited at the same time. Odd combination, but they combine together to make a cocktail of adrenaline pumping through his body.

The two of them do come to a slight problem when Frank’s cock is not small, and Gerard’s mouth is not huge. That’s a problem Frank never thought he’d have with his best friends brother. Gerard isn’t going to let that stop him though, because he grasps Frank hard-on in his hand and then steadily starts stroking him, before he glides his tongue along the tip, making Frank’s heart stop. 

“Is this okay?” Gerard asks tentatively.

“Yup,” Frank answers. How on earth did he manage to find the least sexy way of saying the word ‘yes’ in the universe?

Gerard smiles and then teases the head again, feeling exceedingly proud of the noise he’s just caused Frank to make.

Frank is already struggling with the weight of restraining himself from exploding. The wet cavern, that is Gerard’s mouth, has never been more welcome. That beautiful mouth, with the contagious smile and the tiny teeth and the magical tongue. That very mouth is around Frank’s cock, and it’s the closest embodiment of heaven he’s ever going to get, because it is a sin to feel this wonderful.

“Fuck,” Frank sighs, and it seems he’s having a very different problem than the one he’d had a minute ago with his inability to stop making noise now.

He feels every single hair on his body standing up on end, as Gerard bobs his head up and down and he never wants this to stop.

“Faster,” Frank whimpers. He lifts his head up slightly to look at Gerard, and pushes the vibrant hair out of his boyfriend’s eyes to watch him.

Frank knows after only a few minutes that he’s just not going to last that much longer. He wants to have the endurance to contain himself, but his body is already feeling too good for its own good. If he doesn’t let go soon he’ll end up dispersing into atoms like in a cheesy sci-fi movie, or like a scene from Torchwood.

“God, Gerard!” He moans, with a broken sounding voice, and he cries out when he feels Gerard’s teeth graze against his tip.

“I’m going t-to... fuck!”

Gerard mumbles something that sounds like. “Go ahead,” but the reverberation of his mouth is what finally sends Frank into ecstasy. 

Now Frank’s ‘practiced’ this sensation a few hundred times in his room with the lights out, and a box of tissues at hand, but never has it been so dreamlike. Gerard doesn’t move from his spot around Frank’s member leaving him with no choice but to cum into his mouth. He calls out Gerard’s name as he gives out.

He’s not aware of Gerard sliding back into position above Frank, because he’s lost in his own fuzzy brain due to the unresponsiveness that arises after having an orgasm at someone else’s hand. There’s a definitive superiority to being brought there by another person, and Frank can’t even begin to thank his lucky stars that the person to have given Frank that feeling is Gerard.

All he knows is that his eyes are closed, not clamped shut like before, but closed delicately and tranquilly. He feels Gerard kissing the side of his lip gently and doesn’t stop him when he places a more firm kiss on Frank’s mouth. Frank can taste himself on Gerard’s tongue, but he doesn’t mind, because he’s still trying to pull himself down from the peak he just catapulted to.

“Merry Christmas Frankie,” Gerard says, and Frank finally opens his eyes to stare at Gerard with a groggy happiness.

“Well Gerard, seeing as it is Christmas, I think the best way to show my gratitude for that gift is to return the favor,” Frank says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “and also, I want to make you feel that good.”

So he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note, in light of recent events I would like to send a "Fuck you very much" out to the one and only Alex Day, because I used to worship the ground Alex walked on and now I want to spit in his face. Tom and Ed can get in on that Fuck you. Who knew ‘Stupid Stupid’ was a self-titled track?


	20. I Know, You Know, That I Know You Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireworks flyin' whenever we're together.

The brothers meet Frank outside his dad’s house and Mikey rolls his eyes when Frank immediately hugs Gerard. School has started up again much to the dismay of the world’s population but it’s just an excuse to see each other at school more.

Frank’s not overly excited by his first day back, but he has Gerard now at least. They had thoroughly discussed whether they were going to be telling people about their relationship, and even despite Gerard’s assured insistence, Frank decided it would be best to keep it low for now. Not because he’s ashamed but because Gerard’s already becoming the laughing stock of the school, and being both gay, and dating the weird short kid is not going to help.

“You two are lame,” Mikey says, walking forward.

“That’s quite a compliment coming from you,” Gerard says.

The conversation turns quickly as they step onto the field and try to walk over the many hedges of snow around them.

“Did you hear about that winter storm that’s meant to be coming?” Frank asks.

Mikey looks at Frank judgmentally, “you mean the one that’s on every news channel, and every website on the east coast? Haven’t heard a peep. Why?”

“No reason, I just really like thunder storms.”

Gerard looks at him curiously, “why?”

“It’s comforting, you know? Everyone for like twenty miles is doing the exact same thing. Everybody is cozying up on their couch, or in bed and there’s like this state of harmony. It feels relaxing because there’s a sense of unadulterated adrenaline and sometimes fear but in a good way.”

Gerard pauses a moment and wraps his arm around Frank to pull him closer, “you’re like a poet. That was beautiful.”

Mikey just frowns and says, “I’m assuming you’re excused from science for today-“ 

“Wait, why would I be excused from science?” Frank asks.

“Because,” Mikey says looking at Frank like he’s an idiot, “we’re doing those dissections today. You’re a vegetarian so I just assumed...”

“Oh shit. I forgot all about that!” Frank replies, “I completely spaced out and didn’t give the form to my dad.”

“Well it looks like you can’t get out of it then,” Mikey says shrugging.

“Nonsense, they won’t make him do it,” Gerard says.

“Uh yeah they will. The lab is worth a lot of our final grade and you can only get out of it if you have a signed form, otherwise you have to.”

“I’m not going to though. I can’t!”

Mikey rolls his eyes, “what are you going to do then?”

“Forge it,” Gerard says like it’s the obvious answer.

“They always call to confirm, or send an e-mail, because they’re smart enough to realize everyone would forge things,” Mikey says, and Frank stops in his tracks only a quarter of the way into the field.

“What am I going to do?” Franks asks looking petrified.

Gerard gives him an evil grin, “Well, you could ditch.”

Frank’s eyes widen with horror, “I have never ditched before! Plus I can’t leave in the middle of the day or anything, I’d have to go now, but my dad’s home.”

Gerard’s smile gets bigger, “You can go to our house, and I’ll come with.”

“What? Gee, why do you need to skip?” Mikey asks, looking like a parent.

“Frank needs my moral support,” he replies, “we can ditch today and then Frank can get his dad to sign the form tonight, and everybody wins!”

“What about the part where we get detention for playing hooky?” Frank asks.

“It’s just detention, and it’ll be with me,” he shrugs, “a lifetime of scarring and nightmares or an hour and a half of detention. Your choice Frankie.”

Frank’s standing behind the Way brothers a little ways into the snow, and sinking slightly because it’s not very compact. He looks absolutely torn up.

“Would you really come with me?” Frank asks. Gerard just nods.

“I won’t,” Mikey says, and he continues walking to school.

“Alright, then,” Frank says making his decision, “bye Mikey see you in eight hours!”

Gerard smiles deviously, as Mikey gives them a half-hearted wave over the shoulder.

“Come on Frankie, let’s go,” Gerard says, walking quickly back over to Frank and taking his hand excitedly.

He energetically pulls Frank forward and doesn’t stop until they’re inside his house, standing in the front entry way where they had their first kiss.

“What exactly do you want to do then?” Gerard asks.

“I don’t know, what did you have in mind?”

“Oh I had a few things in mind,” Gerard replies.

“What are you suggesting?” 

“I wasn’t suggesting a thing Frankie, I’m a gentleman.”

“Maybe I was suggesting something then,” Frank replies looking conniving. Gerard looks completely surprised by Frank’s answer and rolls his eyes.

“Come on let’s go upstairs then, where there’s music,” Gerard says grabbing Frank’s hand and pulling him up the steps, two at a time, until they’re in his room. Gerard busies himself with picking out a CD from a cupboard near the side of his desk. Frank just sits down on the bed, and watches him.

For a little over an hour they don’t do anything but talk and listen to music, and when Frank checks the clock it’s almost 9:00. He doesn’t want to mention that he didn’t get to eat breakfast but Gerard brings it up himself.

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” Gerard asks, to which Frank nods so he walks over to his desk and pulls the drawer where he grabs a box of granola bars.

“Really Gee? You keep granola bars in your desk?”

“Yes,” He says tossing one to Frank, “When I talked with you, or with Pansy, I kept forgetting to eat, so I just brought them up here.”

Frank laughs but doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just looking at Gerard who’s absolutely beautiful. Gerard’s desk is near the closed door and that’s where he still stands looking at Frank, for a minute until his eyes dart to the window quickly.

“What’s up?” Frank asks turning to look as well.

“Just saw lightening. Looks like the storms already coming.”

The sky is a murky greyish green color, and the sun is vacant from the endless expanse, which catches Frank’s attention for a while, as he absently nibbles on the granola bar.

The darkness is really hypnotizing so that he doesn’t see Gerard walk up behind him and kiss his check gently before plopping back onto the bed. 

“You look like you’re lost in thought,” Gerard says.

“What? Oh, I just... I told you already. I like thunderstorms,” a few pellets of rain hit the window as he says that and he adds on, “I also like rain.”

“It’ll wash away lots of the snow, maybe we’ll be able to make it to school without going on an episode of Wipeout soon.”

“Or it’ll all turn to ice,” Frank says, looking back to Gerard at last. He’s smiling cheekily at Frank a few inches away.

The rain picks up, but Frank doesn’t watch it because he’s too far lost in Gerard’s eyes. He’d never known the true beauty of the color hazel until he’d looked at Gerard.

“I really like you Frankie,” Gerard says. He’s known Frank for a while now but even so, they’ve only actually been dating for like three weeks so he decides against saying he loves him for right now.

“You make me happy,” Frank says, referencing the conversation they’d had online, which makes Gerard’s smile widen even more than it already was so that Frank can see every single one of his teeth.

A loud clap of thunder doesn’t even break their eye contact with each other, and the only thing that actually manages to get them to stop looking at each other is the sudden halt of the background music behind them as well as the lights knocking out.

“Oh fuck!” Gerard’s voice calls, and even though it’s dark, Frank can still see him pretty well with the light from the curtain drawn window.

“Does this feel like a cheesy horror film to you?” Frank asks, giggling at the expression on Gerard face.

“Let’s not go into the basement then,” he says, and from the feeling of the springs around him, Frank can tell that Gerard gets up, “come on let’s go find some candles.”

Frank sighs, but allows himself to follow Gerard, though the rest of the room is fairly dark, so he takes his cell phone out to use as a beam of light to follow him.

“They should be in the kitchen, but I’m not sure where the lighter is,” Gerard says, and he carefully walks down the stairs, assisted by the light on Frank’s phone.

“Why do you keep candles in the kitchen?” Frank asks.

“We get a bunch of candles from our relatives for some reason around Christmas, but we never use them so they just stay in the junk drawer,” he explains as they walk into the impossibly dark kitchen.

“Found ‘em!” He exclaims after a few minutes and he piles several candles of all shapes and sizes onto the counter followed by a lighter, “That makes sense. Put the lighter with the candles. I should’ve known.”

Frank laughs at him and studies the different aromas. There’s an unbelievable number of different ones. Fruity scents, plant scents, a couple food scents, flowers.

“Why are there so many?” He asks as Gerard continues to stack piles of them.

“I have a cousin who works at a Bath and Body Works.”

“I think you’ve got enough Gee, we only need like four or so.”

Gerard shrugs and turns back to look at all of them.

“Wow... we probably shouldn’t mix weird smells should we? Something tells me that Pineapple, freshly cut grass, and cinnamon won’t go well together.”

Frank agrees and they spend few minutes looking through them. They decide on a salted caramel, vanilla, chocolate chip cookies, and espresso.

“It smells like you blew up the Pillsbury Doughboy in here,” Frank says after they light them all.

“Either that or we majorly robbed a Nestlé factory,” Gerard smiles, looking at him. They’re up against the wall, propped on his bed, and the warm flickering glow of the candles is making it extremely hard for Gerard to not grab Frank and start kissing him.

Frank smiles and shivers making him remember that the power would’ve taken the heating out with it.

He grabs the blanket near the foot of his bed and nudges closer into Frank so that the smaller boy rests his head on Gerard shoulder.

“This is really perfect and I don’t know why,” Frank says.

“I know,” he replies, understanding completely.

“Gerard?” Frank asks.

“Yeah?”

Frank picks himself up a little to look into Gerard’s eyes, resting his head against the wall to do so. 

“I don’t know if it’s just the mood or whatever but I think now is the perfect time to tell you that I love you,” Frank says strongly.

Gerard can’t help but laugh giddily and say, “me too. I love you Frankie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a hint as to what might be coming up in the next chapter: http://youtu.be/NUuTJExY0t4


	21. The Frickle Frackle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, this chapter is fucking long.

Frank doesn’t pause to smile before he kisses Gerard but Gerard can feel his smile anyway, which only makes him grin as well. After a few minutes, one of their tongues finds its way into the others mouth, but they both roll with it so that Frank’s hands are on Gerard sides, just above his waist and Gerard’s are enveloped in Frank’s messy hair.

He’s hardly even aware it’s happening, and for the life of him he doesn’t know how Frank manages to maneuver them both, but Gerard is aware that Frank pushes him onto the bedspread and climbs on top of him.

“F-Frank,” he says his words stuttering and when he looks into Frank’s eyes a new look has taken over. The best word to describe it is lustful.

Frank and Gerard hadn’t been left alone since Christmas, because Mikey and everyone else always seemed to be interrupting them, but now they’re very alone. They haven’t even had sex yet, which is a little disappointing to them both considering the events of that night, but what’s stopping them now?

Gerard completely forgets what he was about to say when he feels Frank’s tongue against his neck and he lets out a small yelp unintentionally, which makes Frank giggle like a schoolgirl, and look back up at him.

“So Frank,” Gerard says, “we have the whole day ahead of us. What do you want to with it?”

“There were a few things I was considering,” Frank says lifting his head to look at Gerard devilishly, “most of them involved several less articles of clothing.”

“I-,” his voice sounds rusty, “would be okay with that.”

Frank giggles, and turns a shade of pink that looks unnaturally adorable on an already unnaturally adorable human being.

“How do you do that?” Gerard asks, astonished.

“Do what?”

“Turn from sexy to cute in a split second. And both at the same time. There must be a law against that.”

Frank turns a little less sexy and more of a lame version of cute at that, but it just makes Gerard want to kiss him more. He doesn’t really have much trouble in accomplishing that goal, because Frank attaches them at the lips again. 

Maybe it’s because both of their brains are kind of fuzzy or maybe it’s because Frank moves really fucking fast for such a little guy, but he ends up getting both of their shirts off in what has to be a record. They should’ve invited some Guinness world record officials because that was pretty damn impressive.

Frank’s incredibly light, and if it weren’t for the feeling of his skin against Gerard’s he wouldn’t be able to tell the guy is even there. He must weight like a pound and a half. It’s probably due, in part, to the fact that he’s propelling himself on top of Gerard with his arms, but Gerard just pulls him down completely, and he falls slightly onto his side so that Gerard’s looking at him, also on his side.

“Gee,” Frank says, quickly brushing a hair out of Gerard’s face, before gliding his hand down Gerard’s chest to rest on the hem of his jeans. 

“Please just-,” Gerard doesn’t even know what he wants from Frank at this point. Something that involves his hands would be nice though.

“What?”

“I don’t know, just, god! Frank you make it hard for me to think.”

Frank nods in agreement, “it’s like I feel like I’m always high when I’m around you. A good high.”

Gerard doesn’t say anything after that but instead, pushes Frank against the bed, and then pulls his and Frank’s pant off, not nearly as fast as Frank had gone, but they are still off, and he doesn’t really care about anything besides that. It’s astonishing how little you care about anything when your boyfriends is half naked in your bed.

“Frank, I really love you,” Gerard says, with chilling honesty.

He smiles and kisses the redhead before whispering an, “I love you too.”

It doesn’t take long before Frank’s having his neck kissed by Gerard, and his boxer shorts teased around his hips. He just wants them to be off, but Gerard keeps swiping his hands away when he tries to do it himself. If Gerard didn’t have such a gorgeous face, Frank would give him a shiner to prove his point.

“Eager are you?”

“We haven’t done anything since Christmas, it’s killing me!”

He hears Gerard chuckle while his head is resting carefully in the crook of Frank’s neck when he says, “But we have all day.”

Frank sighs, “Not all day, we have until Mikey gets home. So we have like five hours at best.”

“That’s still a long time,” Gerard answers.

“Yeah but...”

“But what?”

“I don’t know! I’m rambling, just do something.”

“Do what?” The little fucker asks lifting his head to look at Frank audaciously.

“You’re not going to make me say it, Gee. We’re not in a porno, I’m not saying it.”

Gerard bats his eyelashes in that mind numbing way that he does, “But how will I know what you want if you don’t say it?”

“Don’t play that card, Gee. We both know that you are kinky as hell, and know precisely what I’m thinking. Don’t try to play innocent.”

Gerard frowns like he’s upset that Frank won’t vocalize his wishes, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes all the same.

“Fine,” He says, and he slides off of Frank and stands up which was not exactly what Frank had expected.

“Where are you going?” he asks, unsettled by the lack of Gerard’s warm body against his.

“Well unless I’m completely misreading the signs here, you want to have sex, so I need to grab something from my desk.”

Oh, ‘something.’ Frank decides he’s pretty damn sure he knows what that means. He also decides that without Gerard there to stop him, it’s easier to pull his underwear off without protest so he does. It should be weird, and it should be uncomfortable, but Gerard makes him sort of tranquil with his presence. Gerard is like a stabilizer to him, and also pretty unnerving sometimes, which doesn’t make any sense at all, but neither does calculus and people still put up with that.

“You’re naked in my house again,” He says, turning back to look at Frank with a bottle in his hand.

“Why don’t you join me?” He says with a shrug. It’s probably obvious to both of them that they’re both completely awkward virgins, because Gerard is blushing and Frank is blushing and Gerard is looking at Frank while he’s blushing and Frank is blushing right back at him, and overall there’s just a lot of blushing. He doesn’t know what to do for a minute, because he’s just sort of looking down at Frank and doing nothing.

Frank lifts his hand up and holds it out sort of in a way that makes it look like he’s asking for Gerard’s hand, and this is what finally prompts Gerard to move. 

Where did his underwear go? That is a good question for another day.

He takes Frank’s hand and he’s pulled on top of the shorter boy with his knees clutching around Frank’s bare hips like he’s going to fall a million stories if they don’t grip him tightly, and the kiss they have is kind of sloppy, but really fucking sexy.

Gerard’s hand starts stroking at the head of Frank’s cock, and Frank does the same until they’re both extremely hard.

“Frank I’m- fuck,” he sighs, looking down at Frank distractedly, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Me neither,” Frank says, and this seems like response enough to him because he pulls Gerard closer to him, and licks his lower lips, and then jaw.

“God, Frank!” He says, feeling his heart pace quicken. 

He pulls Frank’s legs apart carefully but Frank doesn’t object so he takes that as a good sign.

Frank covers his face in his hands at this trying to hide his sheer embarrassment, and what might be terror, but is kind of a good terror.

“Hey Frankie,” He feels Gerard’s hands on his wrists trying to pull them away from his face, “Please don’t be self-conscious, I think you’re beautiful.”

His heart stutters at that, and he allows Gerard to pull his hands away from his face, where Gerard’s looking extraordinary. He smiles at Frank genuinely and the look is contagious. 

“Tell me when you’re ready, Frankie.”

Frank nods, he’s not sure what it is he’s nodding for, because he blanked out for a moment, but he figures it’s a reassuring gesture of some sort, and Gerard doesn’t bring it up, so it must not look as stupid as he thinks it does.

Gerard looks at him for a few moments without doing much of anything and they instinctively start to breathe together so that Frank and Gerard inhale and exhale in rhythm. 

A loud crack of thunder reminds them both that it’s raining bullets outside, and for some reason this makes the setting all the more romantic. They really cliché’d the hell out of this bitch, what with the empty house and the candles that smell like a blown up Malt-O-Meal factory. Add in the rain, and they’ve achieved ultimate rom-com fest. Then again everyone loves a good old fashioned rom-com every once and a while, but it really does help if you’re a character in it.

Frank’s a little nervous that his excited energy might take shape in the form of helium, but right now he’s not positive he isn’t floating anyway.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Frank says finally with his head lolling forward like he’s a bit drunk. He might be a little high from the candle fumes though. Or maybe he’s just high from Gerard.

Whatever the case is, Gerard slowly grabs the bottle, which Frank glances at to confirm his suspicion that it is, indeed, lube. 

When did Gerard get that? Don’t go there Frank.

He lies there, under Gerard which is kind of an odd position to be in and waits for him blearily, until he glances at Frank cautiously, and adjusts himself so that he’s more or less, between Frank’s legs, while on his knees. He’s really dazzling today, his hair all askew and messy, as well as his alabaster skin, looking a tinted shade of yellow because of the dancing flames of the candles.

How did Frank get so lucky as to snag Gerard as a boyfriend? He’s like an Adonis over there with his red hair and his cute dimples.

Frank’s only half present when he feels Gerard’s fingers lingering around his hole, and he really does try to keep himself from wincing, but he can’t, and Gerard stops immediately with concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine. No, sorry. It’s just new,” Frank assures him, but Gerard doesn’t look all that sure.

“Seriously, just...” he can’t find words, but he tries anyway, “I’m alright.”

Gerard nods, but doesn’t do anything more until Frank gives him puppy dog eyes which are hard to deny, so he continues. Frank’s a little better at pretending it doesn’t hurt this time, but it’s not that bad. It’s not the best feeling in the world, and he’s a little saddened by that... until Gerard hits a particular spot that feels like a-whole-nother type of Christmas.

His skin prickles and Gerard seems to note the effect that had on Frank because he does it again, and Frank’s trying to remember when all the stars in the universe decided to culminate on Gerard’s ceiling, because that’s all he sees. The feeling of another finger is not entirely a good or bad feeling until Frank feels himself being stretched a bit which is not exactly pleasant, but it stops being uncomfortable after a few seconds.

“God, Gee,” Frank whimpers.

Lazily he’s aware of Gerard’s mouth deciding to clamp around his cock which might be the best feeling in the world combined with the sinful feel of his fingers. Frank manages to take a small glance at Gerard before his head falls back in euphoria. His lips are dark and wet, and his colorful hair matted to his forehead with a bit of sweat, even though it’s kind of cold. Gerard swirls his tongue around the head making Frank shudder, and cry out lightly. 

What has to be three fingers, and he’s moaning every few seconds like a whore. He already feels close to the brink, and Gerard seems to sense this so he pulls away from Frank making him feel completely empty and more insecure than ever. He doesn’t even want to think about how embarrassing the noises he was just making were.

Gerard nips his way up to Frank so that he can look directly into his eyes, and he presses his forehead to Frank’s gently.

“Can you, um, turn over Frankie?”

Frank nods, even though his head doesn’t really move because of Gerard’s pressed against his, but Gerard gets the message, and allows him to turn quickly so that he’s on his stomach.

Gerard’s velvety tongue kisses and glides on the small of his back making Frank breathless. He’s not sure why, but the feeling of Gerard’s skin against his is almost as sensual as anything else he can imagine.

Frank wiggles slightly under him to get more comfortable, and he rests his head on its side, while Gerard’s finger ghost across his torso and come to a rest on his waist, just above his hipbone.

He hears Gerard applying more lube, but he doesn’t think much about it because he’s incredibly distant at the moment, with a mixture of a thousand emotions. He’s anxious, excited, horny as fuck, scared, frantic and they all combine to make him feel like he’s charging electricity through his veins and bones.

“Okay Frankie, tell me right away if you need me to stop,” Gerard says, and he bites languidly at Frank’s ear. Frank nods, and tries to prepare himself, but there’s really no way to do so.

For a few seconds it’s just a shockwave of pain, and sore stretching, which is not exactly ideal, but he bites his lip and scrunches his eyes together. As primitive as it sounds he doesn’t want to botch his ego by telling Gerard to stop. Gerard though, because he was apparently Charles fucking Xavier in another life, pauses whilst inside him, and mutters a few words that Frank doesn’t hear, because he’s got a trembling ringing in his ears.

He calms down after a second, and reassures Gerard for what has to be the millionth time, but still he seems scared of continuing. In the end Frank has to practically beg him to continue, which is weird because he doesn’t really want to but at the same time he doesn’t want to stop. For another moment or two it’s just nothing that Frank wants to go through and then Gerard hits that G-spot again, and it’s like every other care is wiped from his mind.

“Fuck! Oh god, right there,” he instructs raggedly. 

Gerard’s forehead is resting against Frank’s back so that his hair tickles the skin, but he barely processes that, because he’s concentrating on other things right now. Once he finds it though, it becomes a lot easier for Gerard to hit Frank’s prostate which each thrust making the experience a hell of a lot more amazing then Frank could have imagined.

Most of the words out of their mouths are pretty incoherent, but they’re predominately a string of cusses, directions pertaining to force and pace, each other’s names, and quite a few utterances of the lord’s name in vain. But it would be so hard not to.

The feeling, while perfect, is so much more special than just that though. It feels like so much more than sex which doesn’t make any sense. It’s just one part of their relationship, and not even close to the most important aspect, but it kind of transcends the animalistic attitude of just doing it for fun. Because the thing is, they’re not really fucking at this point, it’s more like ‘making love’ which is an awful, indirect and putrid term, but it’s the most accurate in this situation.

Gerard is all that matters, and for a while any word that is not one of the aforementioned is completely lost to both of them.

What an idiom it is to say that the experience is like nothing else in the world, but there’s a reason people don’t compare the incomparable. You can’t, that’s kind of the definition of the word.

Gerard is the first to ‘let go’, so to speak, and the feeling is like being struck by lightning, but in a good way. Maybe he actually was struck by lightning though, there’s a storm outside, but he doesn’t even care because he’s just in a void of black for a good ten seconds before he’s brought back to the earth by Frank’s climax. If the thunder had been loud it is nothing compared to the moan from Frank’s mouth, and damn can that boy shout.

The world could’ve dropped out of the sky and he wouldn’t have noticed, because the feeling of Gerard’s orgasm, and the groan itself would be enough to make a lesbian fall into ecstasy, let alone Frank. 

There is no word in any language that could describe the latitude of what had just happened, and it fills the room with static so that the only thing either of the two can feel is the body heat of the other. When Gerard crawls off of him Frank feels engulfed with an unknown emotion that is far past hunger or lust.

He turns around to look at Gerard, so that they face each other on their sides, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say. Thanks? Good job? Five stars? WOW?

There’s several reasons for why he says nothing, but he doesn’t have to, because Gerard is right there with him, not all that compelled to try and vocalize anything.

As far as skipping school goes this was the single most amazing alternative, and they both know that. 

Frank wants to say he loves Gerard but the very thought of such a generic phrase after such a thrilling experience repulses him so he simply slouches into Gerard’s body to cuddle. He hums softly into Gerard’s chest, but the message gets across without the words behind it. All he would want to say is “I love you” but there’s no reason to need the words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So unfortunately this _is_ coming to a close, which is a little sad for all of us, because I’ve really enjoyed writing this story, but the fact of the matter is, I just don’t have much more story to tell. I do have conclusion planned already so it’s going to have a proper ending, and you’ll know when I’m done. Thanks for sticking around with me though, every reader, kudos, and every comment (especially comments) literally make my day so much better and wow, thanks for being so nice.


	22. Remember Kids: It’s Better to Be a Pool Pusher than a Pill Pusher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um, Frank wants to murder Mikey a little bit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking time out of translating actual original Homer into English to give you a new chapter (WHY DID I DECIDE TO TAKE GREEK? I WANT TO PUSH ODYSSEUS AND AGAMEMNON INTO A FURNACE).

“You two have fun skipping school today?” Mikey asks, stepping into the house.

They give each other knowing looks but Mikey’s not an idiot.

“I’m going to take that as a yes, and I am NOT going to ask for any details,” he says, looking a tad bit nauseated.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Gerard says. The lights had come back on a few hours ago but it had still smelled like they’d been burning candles earlier so they’d had to open a few windows which made it cold. Gerard decided that it was just not a good idea to let his parents know that he skipped school though, so it had to be done.

“You know I should probably go,” Frank says checking his watch. He doesn’t want to but he knows it’s probably the right thing to do.

“Aw,” Gerard says sticking out his bottom lip, “do you wanna come over tonight maybe, and, you know?”

“Whoa, TMI!” Mikey shouts, and walks over to the kitchen.

“Who the fuck still says TMI?” Frank yells.

“Who the fuck has sex with their best friends older brother?”

“Valid point,” Frank says rolling his eyes and grabs the backpack he’d discarded this morning and says, “I’ll think about it, but I’ll call you either way.”

He does eventually end up going over later that night, but Mikey is a meddlesome bastard who decides it would be fun to make it impossible to do anything besides talk. Frank mentally reminds himself to murder Mikey sometime soon.

At the very least they get some time to talk in between the many Mikey interruptions, but Gerard eventually just locks the door. Doesn’t keep Mikey from yelling at them from behind the door though.

“I still want to be able to tell people about us,” Gerard says finally. 

“I never want your safety to feel threatened because of me,” Frank says.

“But I love you, and it’s more important to me to make sure everyone knows I’m dedicated to you, then to hide. It’s like I’d be lying to everyone.”

“We can tell people that we know, or people that we’re close with, but letting more people know would only be dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt, and I’d probably get hurt too but I care more about you.”

“Frank! I love you, and it feels wrong to keep it hidden.”

“It’s just a label, Gerard,” Frank says sadly, “it’s just a label, and no one else really cares.”

“Yeah but I care, and it would make me happier if it wasn’t a secret. You’re my boyfriend Frank, and I think everyone should know how much I love you for that.”

“Gee, I love you too, and I honestly would love to be clean and open about it but the kids at our school... they’re judgmental and they’re rude. They won’t care that two people are in love, they’ll care that two boys are holding hands.”

“Why should we care?”

Frank frowns, “because I don’t want to see you get beat up. I don’t want people to call you a fag or some other vile word. I just want to see you happy and with me.”

“Coming out would make me happy,” Gerard whispers.

“I would love too, but I don’t want to be hurt or watch you get hurt either. Ultimately though, I’ll let it be your choice.”

“I know it’s only a mental thing, but it just seems so sad not being open about it.”

“I’ll respect your decision whatever you decide you need to do,” Frank answers. He checks the clock on the desk near them to see it’s almost midnight, and they have school early tomorrow.

“Gee, we should probably get some sleep, we have a fun day of catching up and detention ahead of us,” Frank says.

“Yeah, but we’ll probably have detention together,” he smiles with a glint, “and I don’t mind that.”

No one gets detention on the first or second day back from break, because no one is that stupid. No one forgets to turn in their homework because there is nothing to turn in, and teachers are sort of lenient the first few days, because it’s a new year and they’re still in a good mood. 

The first New Year where Frank actually kissed someone at midnight, and how amazing is it that it was Gerard?

The point is that no one gets detention on the first or second day. No one ever gets detention the first few days. It just doesn’t happen.

Obviously that isn’t exactly a true statistic as a total of three people actually did get detention on the second day. Why on earth would, not one, but two people decide to ditch on the first day back? Why on earth would anyone decide to push a guy into the swimming pool, is a good question as well. 

The best question though is probably: why was Gerard standing next to the pool, fully clothed in the middle of third period? Why did he decide to go into the empty foggy room, when no one was using it? All alone next to a chlorine filled germ fest during the time when he should be in Geography class.

The answer to that question is obviously that he wasn’t really alone in there. All he was supposed to do was take the papers his teacher handed him and deliver them to the office, and that was all.

Someone passing in the hallway decided that this was a golden opportunity to throw Gerard in the pool. 

He wasn’t all that angry or anything, he was kind of getting used to Lucas tormenting him, but that water is a lot colder when you’re outside of the pool then when you’re in it, because he is soaked.

“Lucas, why did you push your classmate into the pool?” The principal had asked. That was a very good question, but Lucas didn’t look all that upset about his weeks detention. 

Mikey had been amused by Gerard’s appearance during lunch, maybe because he was dripping or maybe it was the miserable look on his face. He had refused to wear the shit in the lost and found, because he liked being freezing and wet way more than the dickhead with the Brony shirt. That MLP shirt might as well come complete with a Fedora and a name tag that said, ‘Hello My Name Is: Misogynist McFuckwad.’ 

That’s why he opted for the soggy clothes, which have still barely dried by the end of the day where he, Frank, and the ever charismatic, Lucas, have detention.


	23. The Premeditated Assassination of the Youngest Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Totally misleading chapter name there.

“So, Lucas is it?” Frank asks, looking at the blond haired boy in the seat next to him.

“Yep. It’s fuck-face, right?” he asks.

That’s kind of a bland nickname from Lucas compared to twat-breath and skank-leach, but he doesn’t say anything, because Gerard throws an eraser at him in warning. The teacher isn’t there yet, but they have a freshman science teacher for detention today, so none of them know necessarily what to expect from her.

The teacher, a woman shorter than Frank and in her late twenties, named Ms. Nicolai, enters the classroom a few minutes later and asks them each for their names.

“Well I’ve been instructed to keep Lucas away from Gerard so I’m going to have you both move to opposite ends of the room,” she says with a delicate voice, that’s actually quite pretty. She points for Gerard to move to the right hand corner in the back and for Lucas to go to the left in the front so that they’re nowhere near each other, and then tells Frank to stay where he is in the middle. 

He wants to go sit by Gerard, obviously. Well, what he really wants is to stick his tongue down Gerard’s throat but that wouldn’t be the best idea in the world right now.

“I don’t think you’re allowed phones so turn them off, and do homework or something,” she says, and then sits down at her desk.

Frank frowns, and turns to look at Gerard who gives him a smile. 

He mouths the words, “turn your volume off.”

Gerard nods and grabs his phone, and a book to make it look like he’s reading, and then Frank looks at his own phone, which is on silent, but the screen turns bright because he has an incoming message.

He smiles at the name. Gerard. Not Watchman, but Gerard. His boyfriend.

**Gerard: U look cute 2day.**

_Frank: U look soggy._

**Gerard: haha, funny. I am goin to murder that kid someday.**

_Frank: r u going to need me to help hide the body?_

**Gerard: I don’t know do u have any boyd hiding tips?**

_Frank: yes, bcuz thats what I do in my spare time. look up how to hide dead bodies_

**Gerard: hey u never know. maybe I’m a serial killer. u wouldnt kno.**

_Frank: well ARE you a serial killer?_

**Gerard: ... no**

Frank turns around to look at Gerard at this and smiles while rolling his eyes. Ms. Nicolai isn’t all that strict it seems so she doesn’t even notice them texting each other.

**Gerard: i promise i wont hurt u tho. i make no promises on mikey.**

_Frank: but then we wont have any1 to teaze us and interupt us while we’re... actually u know on 2nd thought, I could get on bord with this whole killing mikey thing._

**Gerard: then it’s settled. I will be an only child soon**

They both have to keep themselves from gigging while texting each other, but Lucas and Ms. Nicolai aren’t paying any attention to them anyway.

They continue texting throughout the entire span of detention and are finally released, much to the joy of all four of them, because Ms. Nicolai wasn’t keen on the whole detention thing either.

Gerard and Frank stay back a few minutes after Lucas leaves so that they don’t have to run into him, but all does not go according to plan.

When they walk out, a safe distance from each other just in case, Lucas is waiting just outside the back entrance of the school to meet them. He’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and his foot against the wall when they see him.

“So I guess this is why you wanted to stop wailing on the kid, isn’t it Gerard?”

“What?” Gerard asks, looking a little panicked, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ve got yourself a little boyfriend,” Lucas says, and he looks sure of himself but there’s no way he could possibly know. He’s almost definitely just teasing for the sake of being mean.

“You must be kidding. Me and him?” Frank says with uncomfortably good acting, “you must be a lot dumber than I gave you credit for.”

Lucas pushes off from the wall at that and walks closer to Frank with an unreadable expression. He’s way taller than Frank so he’s definitely a little scared of him.

“What did you say to me?” Lucas says, and he doesn’t touch Frank but his voice and eyes are like a slap to the face.

“Lucas calm down,” Gerard says.

“You two are so lame,” Lucas says with venom, looking at Gerard, “You’re so puny and sensitive.”

“Just back the fuck off man,” Frank says, with way more confidence than he has. 

Lucas turns his head back to Frank and his long arm pushes Frank into the side of the wall, not overly hard or painful but it’s not pleasant either.

“Lucas, stop!” Gerard says and he puts a hand on Lucas shoulder while he’s narrowing down on Frank against the wall.

The guys has a really fast right hook though, because he turns around, and hits Gerard in the jaw before he even knew what was happening. Gerard staggers backward for a moment, a little surprised.

Frank loses his cool though at this, and while Lucas’ back is towards him he does the stupidest thing ever imaginable. 

Frank jumps on top of Lucas’ back, angrily, and pulls at his hair viciously. He can’t believe what his adrenaline is making him do, but he does it anyway. How dare Lucas hurt Gerard? He deserves much worse than Frank is capable of.

For a few moments Lucas is dumbstruck, and doesn’t do anything as the small boy pulls at his hair, and then he composes himself and manages to throw Frank off, and to the ground.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Frank gets to his feet quickly and Gerard looks almost as surprised as Lucas had, but Lucas is a lot more anger than anything else right now.

“Stop being a prick and leave us alone!” Frank says, and he pushes Lucas back aggressively.

Lucas towers over Frank and answers back with an identical push, “make me.”

Frank grits his teeth and he honestly doesn’t know where the strength or idea comes from, but he goes for Lucas with a clenched fist, and he hits his target right in the eye.

The second Frank’s skin hits Lucas he can tell that the latter is going to have a black eye, and he’s actually really proud of that, despite his throbbing hand. No one ever told him how much punching a guy hurts, because oh my god!

As soon as Frank lowers his hand from the hit he bends down slightly, and wraps his other hand around his aching fingers, while Lucas recovers from the blow.

Frank watches Lucas fumble backwards, but he stays on his feet and then brings his hand to cup around his eye and chin.

“You freak!” he screams looking angry.

Frank smiles slightly even though his hand is killing him and he looks at Lucas. Gerard is still standing behind Frank looking aghast.

“Stay away from us,” Frank spits at him.

“In your dreams,” Lucas says, and he moves his hand away, and starts advancing at him again, a little less determined, but a lot more cross.

Frank is on a roll though, and he sees an easy way out of this one, because Lucas is kind of outmatched right now. 

Frank does what any sane human would do.

He knees the guy in the crotch. 

And down he goes. 

Frank winces himself seeing Lucas double over, but he doesn’t have any sympathy for him.

He just quickly turns around and says to Gerard, “and now we run.”

Gerard doesn’t need telling twice as he and Frank leap over a pile of snow, and start running across the field quicker than either has ever cared to run from the school

When they’re far enough away, and just outside of Frank’s house, Gerard attacks Frank with a gigantic hug.

“That was fucking amazing, where the hell did that come from?” He asks, with his head on Frank’s shoulder.

“I have no idea, I just hated seeing you hurt. I told you it bothers me,” Frank responds, a little flummoxed by the intensity of the embrace.

“Oh man it was great,” Gerard says pulling away, “terrifying, and scary, but absolutely great.”

Frank tries not to blush at the way Gerard is looking at him with pure admiration.

“I love you so much Frankie,” He says, and he grabs Frank’s shoulders, and pulls the short boy into a kiss.

Frank doesn’t move or do anything because he’s just so happy right now, with Gerard here with him. He only pulls away at the sound of a garage door opening behind him. Frank blushes furiously when he sees that it’s his dad’s house that’s making the racket. His dad has never even met Gerard, come to think of it, but it looks like he’s about to.

He sees his father’s head in the dark garage, and he walks out of it when he spots Frank. He turns to Gerard who doesn’t look even remotely unsettled.

“Hey Frank, I’m glad I caught you before I left!” he says approaching the two boys who are standing at the end of the driveway.

“What’s up?” Frank asks trying not to look nervous.

“Um, is this Gerard?” His dad asks curiously while pointing at Gerard.

Frank nods, and Gerard smiles at him politely.

“Nice to meet you Gerard,” he says, and he formally shakes Gerard’s hand which isn’t all that odd but Frank finds it so.

“Frank’s never stops talking about you,” he says, and Frank is prepared to go dig his own grave, because he’s going to die from embarrassment.

“If you’re going to do the whole, embarrass your son thing, then can I get a warning so I can go drown myself?” Frank asks.

“Sorry,” he says, and turns to look at Frank, “anyway, I’m not going to be home tonight, because your aunt slipped on some ice. It’s nothing serious, but I have to go help her out and I’ll stay the night too. I should be back by tomorrow night, though. I haven’t called your mother so you can call her to come pick you up, but I’m going to head off.”

Frank nods and he and Gerard walk to the side so that his dad can pull the car out of the driveway.

When he’s gone Frank gets a wide grin and turns to Gerard, “you know what this means?”

“Uh, no?” Gerard responds.

“My dad is gone. Empty house,” Frank says, with a childishly stupid wink.

“He said to call your mom though,” Gerard points out, looking a little disappointed.

“Yeah but he didn’t call her, so she doesn’t know, and what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.”

“I like the way you think, Iero.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should warn you that updates will be quicker if you leave comments, because otherwise it feels like no one's reading, and I don't feel the obligation to hurry or work hard if I don't think anyone cares.


	24. And The Curtains Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was called “So Long and Goodnight” but that was Way too cheesy.

“This milk is frozen,” Gerard says looking at his milk container angrily.

“Oh come on it’s not that bad,” Frank answers.

“No! Like it’s legit frozen!” He open the carton wide, holds it upside down, and a milk colored block of ice falls onto the table with a clack.

“Wow, it’s actually frozen,” Brendon says looking truly interested.

“I told you!”

“Okay, I knew school lunch was bad but I never thought they’d serve milk-sicle’s,” Frank says, looking at the rectangular ice on the table.

Frank sighs, and taps his fingers quietly on the hard surface, but he’s lost in thought again. Last night had been one of the greatest of his life, that’s for sure, but now he’s torn up over the whole Lucas dilemma. He still doesn’t know how much the guy knows, if anything at all.

He stares down at his fingers absently. He’d had to borrow a pair of gloves from Gerard, with skeleton patterns on them, because there was bruising on his knuckle from where he hit Lucas. 

Frank’s still confused where the adrenaline he had yesterday even came from. He’s not normally violent. He’s not exactly a monk or anything but he doesn’t go around beating the shit out of people like Lucas does. Maybe that kid has permanently bruised knuckles. Wouldn’t that be a good signal to his parents or teachers that he’s a bully?

“Hey loverboy, lost in thought again?” Mikey says pushing Frank in his seat. He turns to look at Mikey right beside him and shrugs.

“Dunno man,” He answers, “that milk is really blowing my mind.”

Gerard snorts then looks at the milk again, which he’d put back into the carton so it didn’t melt all over the table.

“Because that’s what’s really important here, isn’t it? Glacial dairy products,” Brendon points out.

“What’s really on your mind?” Gerard asks.

“Nothing it’s just,” Frank sighs, “I don’t know. What Lucas sad yesterday is kind of scary. What if he knows?”

“Knows about you and Gerard?” Pete asks, looking confused.

“Exactly! What if he knows and he’s going to use that against us?”

“How would he do that?”

“I’m not really trying to plot out the details, okay? I just know that he’s not going to be happy about me punching him,” Frank answers.

“Speak of the devil,” Mikey says, pointing to the entrance to the cafeteria where a blond boy with a black eye walks between the tables, followed by his meat-brained sidekick. He’s headed straight for their table.

“Oh joy,” Frank says looking anxious.

“So I see you and your faggot friends are still here,” Lucas says approaching the table with an air of intimidation surrounding him, even with his shiner.

“Well no, we decided to burst into atoms by the mere thought of you,” Gerard answers, derisively.

Lucas spits back in the same tone, “Nice to see you haven’t lost your wit in the midst of such idiocy.”

“Don’t speak about my friends like that,” Gerard answers, not looking at Lucas.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually going to stick up for them?”

“They’re my friends, why shouldn’t I?” He continues, still not looking at Lucas.

“And boyfriend,” Frank manages to say, though it’s terrifying to actually speak the words out loud. Gerard looks at him surprised but Frank raises his eyebrows with confidence of some sort, which he’s no at all sure he will ever be able to muster ever again. He feels like an ant compared to Lucas. 

“You’re actually...?” Lucas asks and the look on his face is of complete disgust.

“Yeah,” Gerard answers smiling at Frank, “yeah, didn’t expect that did you? Plot twist on your little scheme? The loser boy isn’t supposed to be in love, but, hey, shit happens.”

“That’s revolting.”

Frank wants to say, ‘you’re revolting,’ but he decides against it.

Gerard certainly doesn’t have such trepidation, “And what makes you say that?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know that’s sick.”

“Not everyone in the world is a prick like you Lucas,” Gerard replies, turning to look at Lucas for the first time.

“Oh, but I’m not the only one who recognizes the repulsion in your little relationship.”

Frank grits his teeth, “Just because you’re a bigot doesn’t mean that everyone else is. It’s the 21st century. So many things that people thought would never happen are normal now. Woman can vote, and we have interracial couples! What makes gay rights any different than that?”

“You’re under the impression that there’s people who care about you, which there aren’t. No one cares.”

Gerard stands up and stares Lucas down even though they’re roughly the same height.

“Fine than, Lucas. If I’m so wrong, and ungodly, then hit me,” Gerard dares, “hit me! Go on. I know you’re not afraid to! Just punch me, and show me how wrong I am.”

Lucas looks uncertain, “What point are you trying to prove?”

“I’m trying to prove that people care, and if you don’t believe me, than punch me in the face,” he answers coolly.

“How many people do you think care?” Lucas asks exasperatedly. He turns to Trevor to see the pride glowing on both their faces at the lack of a response. Lucas is under the impression that he’s apparently winning whatever argument they’re having.

“I care!” Gerard says.

“One person, wow. How terrifying.”

“I care,” Frank says, standing up looking at Lucas.

“Look at that Gerard you just doubled your army,” Lucas snorts.

“I care,” Brendon whispers, and looks at Mikey who nods in agreement. Mikey’s encouragement is enough to make them both stand up and look at Lucas.

“We care,” they say together.

Frank feels himself smile at that, and watches Ray stand up beside Mikey and repeat the words. Lucas looks surprised at the five boys standing and looking directly at him and his cohort. Gerard raises and eyebrow as if to say, ‘told you so.’

“Your little friends? That means nothing to me, Gerard. Five is inconsequential.”

“Six,” Patrick adds, standing up.

“Seven,” Pete corrects.

Lucas looks murderous and he says, loudly, a little too loudly, “You don’t get it do you? No one cares about your gay agenda. No one cares if you’re happy with your sin. No one cares!”

“And I’m telling you that you’re wrong. You’re the one who doesn’t get it!” Gerard shouts back, and they’re starting to get the attention of the entire cafeteria, “People are not that judgmental. People care!”

“Who!” Lucas screams back, “Who? You and your demented posse?”

A girl, that Frank has never seen nor spoken to before stands up and says, “I care.”

Another girl does the same, and then a boy, then two girls, then two boys. More and more people stand up and look at Lucas. Everyone either sick of Lucas’ bullying, or just plain fed up with people like him.

Frank looks around the room at the faces he recognizes and some he doesn’t. His old table mates, Alex, Jack, Rian and Zach. Pete’s friends, Andy and Joe. The kid with the scarves that Brendon would so turn gay for, Ryan. Several dozen more people as well, that Frank doesn’t know, and it’s the most gratifying thing he’s ever seen in the world. People do care. Everyone on their feet cares, and that’s amazing.

“People care, Lucas. You’re the anomaly. Not me,” Gerard says, grinning. 

Lucas looks uncomfortable but maintains his prideful composure, “Whatever. You and your little boyfriend mean nothing to me.”

He turns to walk away but Frank starts before he’s out of earshot, “At least we love each other though. Who on earth do you think would actually care about you? It’s hard to love something that is only capable of hate.”

“Is that what you’re calling logic nowadays? Hate?”

“No. Logic is the ability to rationalize that other peoples happiness doesn’t have to affect your own. Logic is the understanding that you can be happy without being mean. You only hate, Lucas, and that’s what gives you such a detrimental cavity in the war against ignorance.”

“Happiness sprung from hate is not happiness at all,” Frank adds.

Lucas says nothing, he just stares at Frank and Gerard whose eyes are locked on each other’s gaze. After a minute he walks away to the applause of a few people around them. Lucas isn’t going to go away forever, and they both know that. He’ll always be there to try and rain on their parade, but he has no power over them, and that’s what’s different.

They’re both aware of everyone’s eyes on their table but Gerard and Frank are the only two people in the room right now. 

Frank looks at his boyfriend. 

He looks at Watchman. 

And at Theodore. 

But most of all, he looks at Gerard. 

The boy who makes him feel like he’s flying. Lucas may be a dick, but he will never stop Frank from loving Gerard. Lucas has now power over popular opinion either.

Gerard is what he wants. Gerard is the person that makes Frank feel like he’s the best person he can be. 

Seeing Gerard, or being near him is always the best part of his day, and his days are usually pretty shitty, but that boy makes him happy. He’s probably the only things that never fails to make him happy. His love for Gerard is nothing short of magical. 

It’s not perfect and he knows it’s not perfect, because there will always be people who tell them no, but it is, at least, pretty damn close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And sadly, that’s it. Thank you so much if you stuck around with me for this long, I appreciate it so much. Please tell me what you thought, I love **comments**! I tried my best at making a broad resolution, but I apologize if it felt inconclusive.
> 
> If you liked it than you’re welcome I guess, and please look out for my next projects (including “The FBI Gets Shit Done” which is a collaboration with the lovely Jazzrockedthestage, another as of yet untitled collaboration, and an individual piece called “[Sweet Home... Minnesota?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1408333)”


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